


Continental Drift

by StarlightDragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Anal Sex, Angel Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archangel Sam Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Canon Era, Dirty Talk, Everyone Is Gay, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Happy Ending, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Gabriel, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Prayer, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 73,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6834934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightDragon/pseuds/StarlightDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Novak is a hunter turned Stanford pre-law student who's prayed to the Archangel Samuel every night for as long as he can remember. Castiel Novak is his older brother who drives round the country hunting monsters in his absent father's Lincoln Continental, and never expects to be rescued from Hell by the seraph Dean. Destiny says that Castiel and Gabriel are the vessels for Michael and Lucifer - but destiny says a lot of shit, and Gabriel's got better things to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pilot

**Author's Note:**

> SO. THIS IS, THIS IS SOMETHING.
> 
> In that it's my first multichaptered fic, and when someone initially threw the idea 'Team Free Love reverse!verse' my way, I expected to just write some half-decent porn for the Supernatural Kink Big Bang and leave it at that. That didn't end up happening! And it became this super epic retelling of the Supernatural apocalypse storyline, from a reverse!verse perspective.
> 
> Part One (chapters 1-6) is the Kink Big Bang, and has art attached to it (done by the wonderful [angrysouffle](http://angrysouffle.tumblr.com)) with the story going up to and including the end of season four.  
> Part Two (chapters 7-12) is the painful, season 5 themed continuation.  
> Epilogue (chapter 13) is the ending I gave the thing, and it's mostly porn if I'm honest.
> 
> Words are mine, except for the ones that aren't - a lot of dialogue and events are taken from the show itself, some word for word and some slightly adapted, and credit goes to the A+ humans who wrote those episodes.
> 
> Updates are Thursday nights because I'm still living in 2008 fanfiction land where people operate on schedules.
> 
> Warnings for chapter one: character death, potential underage (undefined high school age; fill in your own blanks.)

 

**Part One**

 

[](http://postimg.org/image/wiv1mxthd/full/)  
[.](http://postimage.org/app.php)  
  


 

_Archangel Samuel, can you hear me?_

Gabriel Novak laid back on his bed, eyes closed, ears perked, and after a moment he heard a familiar faint rush of wind that told him everything he needed to know.

_Hey there Sam, good to see you again. I got a favor to ask you. I know, I know. You've already done me plenty of favors. There was the one time with the cops and the statue and the whipped cream... yeah, I still owe you one cause of that day. And I will make it up to you. Someday, I will. But just hear me out for now. I got an interview tomorrow. Law school._

_Yeah, I know, I know. I've hardly been the most law-abiding person up til this point. But people change. I've already changed, I think you know that. And maybe I wanna help people like me. Kids who've fucked up or been fucked up for whatever reason, who maybe shouldn't have to waste all their potential because of one dumb thing._

_So, if you feel like it, if you think that's a worthwhile thing and not some bullshit I just spouted, some help would be nice. I'm telling people it's just one possibility out of a lot of things I'm considering, but truth is, I want this. It's really important to me. So if you could make the interview go well and help me get a place, that'd be fab._

_I'm gonna go back to looking over interview technique, cause it'd be cool to get at least some sleep tonight, but I promise I'll come talk to you tomorrow after the interview's over, when I'm less anxious and we can have a real conversation. Sound good?_

_Sam? You still listening?_

_Sam, where'd you go?_

_Sam?_

~~~~

Gabriel had grown up as a hunter. He'd almost been born in the life. He knew his older brother Castiel hazily remembered a different time, a time of family homes and sandwiches with the crusts cut off every afternoon, but Gabriel’s mother had been killed by a demon on his six month birthday, so he’d never experienced any of that. There were pictures buried somewhere of him on his first hunt, his haphazard, bathrobe-clad father holding a screaming Gabriel under one arm as he mapped out the kill patterns of a vengeful spirit with another. And that's what it had been like ever since, Gabriel either left behind waiting for his father (and later his brother) to come home and regale him with tales of their latest successful monster movie recreation, and then, when he was old enough, joining the two of them, practicing his shotgun rounds on a low level demon or learning how to sharpen wooden stakes in the back of his father's golden Lincoln Continental.

Often, while Chuck was out hunting, he'd stick Gabriel in a local school for a few weeks, and Gabriel would try to tell his stories to the other kids, but everyone would just pass him over as a child with an overactive imagination. But Gabriel knew the truth, had always known from his father that every kind of mythical beast, monster, fictional creature, strange creepy thing under the bed, everything you could possibly imagine was real.

Except for angels.

Gabriel remembered being four years old and asking his father if there was an angel watching over him. Chuck had laughed and brushed off the question. "There's no angels, Gabe, that's just a myth they make up so that kids think there's good supernatural creatures in the world as well as bad ones. There's no good ones. There's the things we kill, and then there's us."

But Gabriel knew from a young age that his dad didn't always tell the truth about everything. Sometimes, he said he was going out to work, but it definitely wasn't rock salt and sulfur that he smelled of when he got home. Sometimes, he said he'd be back in time to tuck Gabriel into bed, but it ended up being Gabe's older brother Castiel that made sure he went to sleep.

Maybe he'd been lying about the angels, too.

So, being a curious child of the sort who never took anyone else's word when he could just figure stuff out for himself, Gabriel decided to do some further research. He wasn't really the reading type, but he was definitely the 'talking to other people and charming them into telling him anything' type, so at one of the many elementary schools he got sent to for a few weeks while his dad was off hunting in some new place, he found a pastor.

"Can you tell me about the angels?" he asked, golden eyes wide and innocent looking up into the man's wise and crinkled face. Gabriel smiled, well aware that nobody could say no to dimples like his.

One hour later, he left the classroom with a sore leg from sitting curled up on it for too long and a mind bursting with all kinds of new and exciting information.

There were apparently a lot of angels, far too many for the pastor to list them all. But Gabriel had never been the kind of kid to settle for an angel where he could have an archangel, and there were apparently four of those, which narrowed down his choices a whole lot. Michael seemed boring, the prissy, stuck-up head of the archangels, the big brother figure Gabriel had never wanted. Lucifer was fallen, broken, twisted, and even though Gabriel felt like that on his darkest days, it wasn't what he aspired for. Raphael was dull, nothing seeming to make him stand out from any of the regular angels, and Gabriel was looking for someone brighter, shinier, to put his trust in.

Which just left the archangel Samuel.

Known as the archangel of justice and knowledge, God's most trusted messenger sent down to deliver good news to the humans, he might not initially seem like the type to appeal to troublemaker Gabriel. But at the same time, Gabriel was always chasing knowledge about something or other, and he could always use a little more good news.

He prayed to Samuel for the first time that night.

_Hi. Hey, Samuel? It's me, Gabriel Novak. You can call me Gabe, but not Gabey because it rhymes with baby and I'm not a baby. Can I call you Sam? Samuel is weird and it sounds like someone's smelly grandpa. I don't want you to be my smelly grandpa. I want you to be my friend. Do archangels have friends?_

He stopped, as though waiting for an answer.

Samuel didn't reply that night, but if he concentrated really hard, Gabriel thought he could hear a faint fluttering, as though wings were taking flight in the distance.

~~~~

But Gabriel didn't let himself be discouraged. One day without a reply was nothing. Samuel must be a very busy and important archangel with a lot of people praying to him, and Gabriel wasn't really surprised that he didn't have time for a kid like him. So he kept trying, every day before bed sending a new prayer to the archangel. Sometimes he just checked in, let him know how his day had gone and that he was still here. Other days he asked for help. He asked for his dad and his brother to come back from their hunts safe and sound. He asked to do better in the training his dad was giving him. He asked for a way out.

The first time Sam answered Gabriel's prayers, Gabriel was eight years old and alone on a motel room bed. He was eating marshmallow nachos because somebody had told him at school that day that fat was an insulator, and he figured that the only way for him to stay warm in these cold and drafty rooms all night was to put on as much weight as possible.

And then his father called.

Gabriel skipped back to the bed, and he couldn't remember ever being happy after a call from his father, but now he was, even if it was a scared kind of happy. All thoughts of his food and the cold were forgotten as he clasped his hands together in prayer and begin to speak.

_Archangel Samuel, can you hear me?_

A rustling sound filtered through his ears, and he grinned to himself, safe in the knowledge that Sam was listening.

_Sam! Guess what? My dad just called me, and he needs an extra hand on the hunt. He wants me to come join. And I'm worried. I have to go, I want to go, but I don't know if I'm going to be as good as he wants me to be. I always tell him I'm doing lots of training when he's away, but I’m not really, cause I don't think I actually want to hunt. But I want to prove myself to him, because it's important to him. And I really, really want to keep him and Cas safe. So will you help me, Sam? Will you watch over me and make sure I do a good job?_

Gabriel didn't expect a response, and he was just about to say 'Amen', when-

_I will protect the three of you during your hunt, Gabriel Novak._

Gabriel almost fell off the bed in shock.

_Sam? Was that you?_

_Yes, Gabriel, that was me. I heard your prayer, as usual, and I wanted to tell you that everything will be okay, to the best of my ability._

Gabriel's eyes widened, and he glanced around the room, looking to see if there was any trace of Sam nearby.

_I am not physically there, but I can see and hear you. I am sorry. I did not mean to scare you._

He hadn't. Gabriel had been taken by surprise for a moment, but now he was used to the idea, he felt ten times better about the situation knowing that Sam was here.

_You didn't. I wanted you to be here. Always have. Are you gonna talk to me again?_

_Yes. I must go now, but I will be sure to speak to you soon._

Gabriel nodded gratefully, wishing he could show Sam what this meant to him.

_Alright, go smite some demons or whatever you do usually. I'll talk to you soon. Amen._

From that day on, Sam would answer every one of Gabriel's prayers, every night. All Gabe had to do was call for him and a few moments later he'd hear the flutter indicating that somebody was listening, followed soon after by a voice inside his head that wasn't his own.

Heaven's most terrifying weapon; that was what the Bible said. Six wings, three halos, one multidimensional wavelength of deadly power. And Gabriel had one who would just pop into his bedroom on a moment's notice.

But the first time Sam answered Gabriel's prayers was almost nothing in comparison to another first the two of them had shared just a few years later. Gabriel was in high school by this point, and although he still prayed to Sam every night, there were other activities he also liked to indulge in before he went to sleep. So he supposed it was only natural that eventually, his two nighttime rituals would blend together.

He was lying in bed in a motel room, and as a rare treat he could actually make noise, because both Chuck and Cas were out. Gabe had been allowed to stay behind because he'd just finished his first solo hunt that day, and he'd been successful, although his leg was a little banged up. Not the worst he'd ever had, but enough to give him a night in bed.

And he'd sent his usual prayer to Sam, and Sam had responded, but for some reason the clueless archangel had decided now was a good time to get into a serious conversation with him.

Usually Gabriel wouldn't want to stop talking to Sam for anything, but today had just been one of those days. There was no particular reason for it, but since getting back to the motel he hadn't been able to stop himself from getting randomly turned on the whole evening, and it seemed like every time he finally managed to distract himself, his mind would immediately wander back to it, and he'd been waiting for hours for Cas and his father to finally go out so that he could take care of things. He really should have jerked off before he'd even started praying to Sam, but for some reason he'd thought the prayer wouldn't take that long.

_Sam. Sam, I have to go, can I talk to you again tomorrow?_

_Why do you have to go?_

Gabriel was sure he was making it up. He was sure that the teasing tone in Sam's voice was an absolute figment of his imagination, and that Sam must have been asking out of genuine curiosity. So he deflected.

_I have something else that I need to do._

_Something else? Can you be more specific?_

And Gabriel snapped, unable to stop himself from yelling, because he was just too damn frustrated and if he didn't get off in the next five minutes he was sure he was going to literally die.

_My cock is hard and I'm pretty sure it's been leaking into my underwear for, like, an hour and I really really want to do something about it right now because it's starting to hurt, okay?_

Sam didn't respond. Gabriel could still feel him there, silently. Probably too shocked by what Gabriel had just said to reply.

_Sam. Shit, I'm sorry. That was really inappropriate._

_No. It's fine. I just... wasn't expecting it._

Gabriel hurried to explain himself, because he could not lose Sam over this, he couldn't, not when Sam was the one thing he had who he really thought he could rely on.

_'S me, you know? I say shit like that sometimes when I really shouldn't, to people I really shouldn't. And I try not to do it with you cause I don't want you to leave, but... yeah, I fucked up._

_Please. Don't worry about it. I am older than you can imagine and I have seen things far dirtier than one teenage boy masturbating. I'll leave you to it, and we can talk tomorrow._

Gabriel should have left it at that, he really should, but he just couldn't stop himself.

_Oh, don't leave on my account. Feel free to stay if you wanna see some more._

Another silence. Gabriel cursed himself, because why the fuck had he said that? Sam was going to be disgusted by him, and now he'd clearly ruined things forever, and Sam was going to stop responding to his prayers and it was going to be all his fault for being such a horny bastard.

_Fuck. Fuck, I did it again, I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. Well, I do, but-_

_If you want me to stay, I'll stay. I was trying not to pressure you into anything._

Gabriel didn't know how Sam could possibly think that. Sam was perfect and in an ideal world Gabriel would have him with him all the time, through everything he did.

_Fuck no. I want you to. Stay with me, Sam, tell me what I should do._

There was a pause, where a terrified Gabriel waited for some kind of response to confirm that he hadn’t completely scared Sam away, and then -

_Oh, you want me to tell you? Knowing that I'm not going to make it quick? Knowing that I know how hard you are right now, how badly you want to come right away, and I won't let you?_

Gabriel's hand flew to his cock, gripping the base tight, moaning aloud. He definitely hadn't expected anything like that from Sam. He'd always seen Sam as... pure, somehow, definitely not capable of those kinds of dirty thoughts, but fuck, he wasn't going to complain.

_Gabriel? Did I say you could touch your cock?_

_Please, Sam. Please let me touch it, you don't understand._

He was writhing around on the bed, squirming with the effort of not just fucking his own hand brutally right now and coming in ten seconds flat like he so badly wanted and needed to do.

_What don't I understand, Gabriel? Tell me._

_It's not that easy for me, I know you've been around a long time, you know how to control yourself and wait for stuff. I can't wait, I need it right now._

Gabriel was physically incapable of taking his hand off his cock, his other hand clenched in a fist, his breathing loud and heavy in the empty room.

_I had to learn. We all had to learn. Maybe it's time you learned too, Gabriel._

_Fuck. Stop saying my name. That's so fucking hot, I can't deal with it._

His hand started to move on his cock, involuntarily, Sam's voice inside his mind completely impossible to resist.

_I could stop you, you know. My powers could reach you, I could force your hand to stay still until I decided the time was right. Do you need me to do that?_

Gabriel's hand stopped, more with shock at the idea that Sam could actually control his movements from so far away.

_Fuck. You can really do that?_

_Of course. I could do anything. My power is almost infinite._

A million different possibilities flew through Gabriel's mind, each as delicious and unlikely as the last.

_Are you saying you could smite me?_

_I'd have to be in the room for that. I could teleport to you and then smite you._

Gabriel let out a strangled cry, and he wasn't sure which part of Sam's sentence he'd had that reaction to.

_Holy shit. I can't. That shouldn't be hot._

_But it is?_

Gabriel would never have admitted it normally, but in his current, desperate state of mind, he thought he'd have told Sam almost anything.

_It is, yeah, it's so fucking hot, I can't cope. Please let me touch myself, I need it so fucking bad._

_Okay. Touch yourself, Gabriel. Just one hand, slowly. I'll tell you if you're going too fast._

Gabriel threw his head back and sighed in pleasure as he finally, finally got to drag a hand down his cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip to collect the precome already dribbling out of it, grateful for anything Sam was allowing him.

_Oh, God, Sam, yes. Yes, please, more._

_Not God, Gabriel. Just me._

Just Sam. Sam wasn't doing this as an uninvolved observer, just to help Gabriel out - he actually wanted to be there, he wanted Gabe to think of him. That thought alone was almost enough to push Gabe over the edge already.

_Sam, yes, just you, only you, keep going, please, let me have more--_

_Yes. You've been good so far, saying my name, doing this for me. Go faster. Don't come yet._

Gabriel did as he was told, increasing his pace, gasping aloud at the slick feeling, his hand just a tiny bit too tight in the best way possible, giving him enough friction to make his brain melt.

_Sam, Sam, Sam! Feels so good, Sam, I'm imagining it's you here, doing all this stuff to me. I bet you're so beautiful, Sam, I wanna see you one day, can I, please?_

_One day, Gabriel. Not yet, but one day._

Gabriel had to bite down on his lip and squeeze the base of his cock again. He'd get to see Sam one day. Not just imagine him, but actually see him, and the promise of that was way too much for him.

_Fuck! I can't do this, I can't hold on, please don't make me. I need to come right now._

He was so close, his balls tightening and his whole body tensing up, a split second away from spilling all over himself.

_You can do this, Gabriel. You can hold on, just a little longer, until I say you can._

_Right. Yes. I can do this, anything for you, Sam, anything._

A tear squeezed out of Gabriel 's eyes, and he still felt ready to explode at any moment, but he could wait for Sam, no matter how difficult it was.

_So good, Gabe, you're doing so well, I'm so proud of you._

_Oh, fuck, Sam, you're all I can think about, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close, please!_

His hand was flying over his cock now, groaning constantly and digging his fingernails into his thigh with the effort of holding back, still barely able to believe that anything this fucking hot was actually happening to him.

_Come for me, Gabriel. Come all over yourself for me and pretend I'm there, right there on top of you, ready to clean it all up._

_Fuck, Sam, yes!_

Gabriel cried those words out loud at the same time as he shouted them inside his head, and the second Sam gave the order, Gabe was done for. He came so hard his vision blurred, his cock jerking in his hand, spurting all over his stomach and messing up his shirt, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he collapsed on the bed, sinking into the mattress.

_Holy shit. What was that?_

_That was you, being so good and so beautiful and doing exactly what I wanted you to. Thankyou, Gabriel, for sharing that with me. It means more to me than you know, and I hope it's not a decision you regret._

Gabriel couldn't possibly regret it. He knew he should feel strange, knowing that he'd essentially just got off to the voice of an archangel inside his head, but he couldn't bring himself to freak out, not when he felt so damn good and relaxed right now.

_It's not. Not at all. I should be thanking you, Sam, fuck, that was so good, I've never come that hard._

_You need to sleep now. You're tired, and your leg needs to heal._

Sam's voice sounded almost amused as he spoke, but full of care and affection at the same time.

_Will you stay with me?_

Gabriel felt stupid asking for it, since he knew Sam wouldn't actually be with him either way, not physically there in the room holding him tight. But he'd never done this with anyone else before, as much as he'd wanted to, and he thought it would feel strange sharing such an important first with Sam and then having Sam just leave him immediately after and go back to his life, as though he'd forgotten about Gabriel. But Gabe knew already that it was probably far too much to ask for from his archangel.

_I mean, I know you're really busy, with... whatever it is archangels have to do. Forget I said anything._

Sam's response came immediately, almost before he'd finished talking, reassuring him.

_I will stay with you. My duties can wait for one night. Would you like me to put you to sleep, or will you sleep okay on your own?_

_I'll sleep fine. But can you... can you make sure I don't have nightmares?_

Gabriel didn't usually confess to having nightmares; certainly not to being affected by them. But he could really use a night, just one night, of not waking up and being terrified of his own dreams.

_Of course, Gabriel. For you, anything._

Gabriel got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, and then climbed back into bed, ready to get some sleep for the night. He should have felt strange knowing that there was somebody with him the whole time, watching over him through every movement, every part of his personal routine that he usually did without being watched, but somehow it didn't. It felt normal, right, to have Sam there with him.

He closed his eyes, focusing on Sam's presence, wondering if Sam really did have physical wings, and if they were what made that flapping noise Gabriel heard every time Sam flew to him. He wondered what they look like, and drifted to sleep quickly with his head full of ideas and pictures of Sam’s wings.

After that, Sam would occasionally instruct Gabriel in getting himself off again. It happened several more times before Gabriel actually met anyone else to have sex with, and it kept happening even after he found partners of his own, human partners who would physically touch him and who he could touch in return. But he would always go back to Sam, somehow. It wasn't something they did every time Gabriel prayed to Sam. Not even a lot of the time. But every so often, Gabriel would feel especially cheeky, and he'd forget that Sam was an archangel who only came to him inside his head - and he started to think of him as something else, and on those nights, when the conversation lulled, he might slip in a, _So, Sam, did you know I'm naked under these blankets right now?_

~~~~

In his senior year of high school, despite having only been a student for a week and a half, Gabriel was approached by a guidance counselor to discuss his future. Gabriel chewed bubblegum with his mouth open throughout the whole meeting and acted disinterested in everything the woman was saying, mostly because he _was_ disinterested.

"What do you think you'll do when you graduate high school, Mr Novak?"

"If."

"I know you don't see a whole lot in your future, but having a high school diploma will always get you further than not having one, even if it just means a slightly higher pay rate."

"Won't affect me. I'm just joining the family business." It was only a slight lie. She didn't need to know that he'd already joined.

"I see."

"What, is this the part where you tell me I'm capable of more than that? Should go off to college and become, I dunno, a wildly successful lawyer or something?"

She chuckled, and it was condescending. "No, no. I don't like to give my students false hope."

Gabriel had been being sarcastic, but now all of a sudden there was even more rage than sugar in his bloodstream. This woman had never met him before, he'd been at the school for days, barely even turned in an assignment yet, and here she was as good as telling him he couldn't get into college? He'd never even considered the idea of going before now, but from that moment onwards it was all he could think of.

And he'd been looking for an escape for a while, and this one was too perfect, too simple, so much so that it might just work because his dad and his brother would never see it coming. And if he'd had more time to plan than maybe he would have changed his mind. Maybe he would have remembered that Castiel had given up on his own high school career so that Gabe could finish his, and that maybe it was kind of a dick move for Gabe to run out on him now, leave him alone with their dad.

But he didn't think about any of that.

He applied to Stanford University just to spite the guidance counselor, and getting the acceptance letter felt like a bitter victory.

~~~~

He met Samandriel in the summer between his second and third years at Stanford. He stuck around on campus during the break as he always did, getting himself a job as a lighting technician at a theater nearby. It was dull work, but he got to sit in a high up booth all to himself and watch free performances every night and it was a thousand times better than going back to his family. Samandriel worked night shifts in the Weiner Hut across the road, and a lot of the time Gabriel would go over there after he was done working for the day and he'd pick up a hot dog on the way home.

Then one day he picked up the hot dog maker too.

He liked the guy at first because he didn't ask too many questions. Samandriel was quite happy to do little more than just sit with Gabriel, the two of them together in Gabe's shitty apartment on the edge of campus, legs tangled up together on the bed, each of them doing their own thing until one of them would stretch, pointedly put down their laptop and lean in for a kiss that would almost always get heated and become something more. It was a good arrangement. They both had company, got to enjoy just existing with another person, and of course, they both got regular sex.

Gabe felt strange about the name, though. Samandriel was a bit of a mouthful (in more ways than one) and it automatically shortened to Sam, but to Gabriel, the name _Sam_ was already firmly ascribed to someone else.

"Can I call you a different name?" Gabe asked one late summer afternoon while the two of them were watching movies. Separate movies, because they both had very different tastes, but they would keep looking over to the other person to make snide comments about what they each were watching, or to quote a funny line.

"If you're asking if you can call me sexy, the answer's always yes."

Gabriel gave him a light shove. "I'm serious. Sam's just... it's not right for you."

Samandriel didn't know anything about Gabriel's past. He knew, by this point, that there was something strange going on, because of the things Gabriel muttered in his sleep when he had nightmares and the way he'd completely freaked out when he had walked past the chemistry labs and smelled sulfur that one time. But he didn't know the specifics. And yet he still didn't complain or question Gabriel. He just nodded.

"Alright. What do you think my name should be, then?"

Gabriel stared intently at him, cupping Samandriel's chin in his hand to better observe the curves of his face, before making a final decision. "Alfie. I think Alfie would suit you."

A small smile played over Samandriel's face.

"Is that okay? I can pick something else if you don't like it."

"Alfie works for me," Alfie hurried to say.

Gabriel smiled back, a far broader, more attention-grabbing grin. "Great. In that case, Alfie, may I kiss you?"

Alfie didn't answer the question, but he pushed Gabriel back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and hovering over him before ducking down to claim Gabriel's lips, and Gabe supposed that was a yes.

~~~~

The name had stuck, and so had the relationship. Alfie had moved in not too long after that, and some of their other friends whispered that it was too soon, that the two of them wouldn't last, but neither of them saw a point in waiting, especially with the amount of time they already spent curled up in the apartment. And they'd proved people wrong. Gabriel refused to own a car for reasons he wouldn't tell anyone, but he was an expert at getting free rides on public transportation, and he'd often hop on a bus late at night to pick Alfie up from his double shifts and carry him home. Alfie took classes at a nearby community college in addition to his work at the Weiner Hut, and his schedule meant that sometimes it was possible to detour back in the middle of the day to present Gabriel with flowers and cookies. The two of them worked.

Gabriel had said his whole life that he was never going to get married, and he never once wavered on that, because he just wasn't a relationship kind of guy, let alone a marriage guy. But that didn't change the fact that when he reached senior year and applied to law school, every possible plan he made for his future included Alfie in some way.

~~~~

On the night that Gabriel prayed to Sam and, for the first time in years, didn't get a response, Alfie was out at work.

Gabriel was trying to focus on his interview technique - interviews were difficult for someone whose natural instinct was constant snark and eyerolling along with an aversion to authority - but it wasn't easy when his head was filled with worries about Sam. Sam, who always spoke back to him, even if it was just to tell him he'd heard the prayer and would get back to him with more later. And today, for the first time, he hadn't. He'd been right there, Gabriel had felt his presence, and then - he'd vanished. And even though Gabriel had always known that at some point Sam would get bored with him and realize he was nothing special; no more worth replying to than anyone else, still he wondered if that really was what had happened. He worried that something bad had happened to Sam.

But Gabriel was a twenty-two year old kid who could barely be trusted with his own sleep schedule, and Samuel was an all powerful archangel who didn't need his worry.

It was a dark and still November 2nd night, and Gabriel thought that a snack break would probably be a good idea. At least it would get him up and moving around. He rolled off the bed and walked through to the kitchen, where all the lights were off, save for a few pinpricks coming from the streetlamps down below shining through the window. Gabriel didn't really care. He knew that he had a few slices of angel cake left stashed at the back of one of the cupboards, so he felt his way along the counter until he reached it, opening the cupboard, stretching his arm as far as he could just so that he could find it--

The kitchen door swung open behind him. If it weren't for a life of hunting, Gabriel probably wouldn't even have heard the tap of the handle against the counter.

He was surprised, though not worried, to hear Alfie home so soon. Hopefully the Weiner Hut had just been overstaffed and sent home a few people early. Gabriel turned to greet him, most likely by saying something overly sappy and adorable that he'd only say when it was dark and Alfie couldn't see his face.

A dark figure in the doorway. Too tall, too broad, too silent.

Not Alfie.

Gabriel pounced, leaping towards the unknown man and grabbing him by the shoulder, ducking to avoid an almost perfectly placed blow. The man grabbed Gabriel by the arm leaving Gabriel helpless as he was swung around and shoved out of the door and into the living room. He tried fruitlessly to kick the man but was rewarded only with an elbow in the face. Gabe made one final attempt at kicking the man in the face and successfully avoided one more block, but then fell crashing to the floor, pinned at both the neck and the wrist, completely powerless, and then--

"Whoa. Easy, tiger."

A familiar, deep, cracked voice, sounding far too amused to be any kind of kidnapper.

Gabriel opened his eyes and let them adjust to the darkness, but by this point, he already knew. "Cas?"

"It's me. I didn't mean to frighten you." Castiel pushed himself up off of Gabriel, offering him a hand and tugging him to his feet. As usual, Gabriel felt really small next to Castiel, and not just because Cas had a good four inches on him.

"You didn't," Gabriel shrugged, brushing off the panic rising in his chest at why Castiel could possibly be here after they'd spent the past three years without a word, without a phone call. Hell, Castiel hadn't even said goodbye to him the night that he left.

The front door swung open, a burst of light from the hallway outside illuminating everything around them, Gabriel and Castiel both shielding their eyes and blinking at the sudden brightness, and a voice spoke from the doorway.

"Hey, Gabe, I-- who's this?"

~~~~

The three of them stood in the center of the room; Gabriel in nothing but his five sizes too big Stanford sweatshirt, Alfie in his ridiculous red and white striped Weiner Hut uniform, Castiel in their dad's old leather jacket over a faded gray shirt and jeans. Still wearing the necklace Gabriel gave him as a kid.

"Cas. This is my boyfriend Alfie. Alfie, my brother Castiel."

"Your brother?" Alfie blinked, and Gabriel generally tried so, so hard not to talk or even think about Cas that he realized he'd probably never even mentioned him to Alfie.

"Yeah. My brother."

Castiel cleared his throat. "I need to speak to Gabriel for a moment. About some private family business."

Gabriel scoffed. "Family business? Alfie is my family."

Cas raised an eyebrow in challenge. "So you want him here while we talk?"

Gabriel didn't. The last thing he wanted was for Cas to give away something that Gabe had worked tirelessly for years trying to protect Alfie from.

"Fine. Yeah. Alfie, give us a couple minutes outside. I'll be back as soon as I can, yeah?" He wouldn't do anything as dumb as tell Alfie he loved him in front of his brother, but he tried to say it with the soft tone of his voice all the same.

Gabriel pushed through the gap between the two of them and held the front door open for Cas, slamming it shut behind two of them. He stood, hands on his hips in the middle of the grimy, deserted hallway, trying to act confident rather than terrified. "What is it?"

"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Gabriel shivered, feeling exposed with his bare legs in the harsh hallway lighting. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Castiel took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Come with me. Help me find him."

Gabriel stared at him, letting out a harsh, humorless laugh of disbelief. "What?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before continuing. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you. I swore I gave up hunting for good. You think any of this is what Mom would have wanted for us?"

"Yeah, well, two weeks' notice would have been nice! You didn’t even tell me you were going until the night you left, ran off, leaving me to tell Dad, scared both of us. And I've given you your time. And I wouldn't have bothered you now if it weren't important. But I know something's wrong."

Gabriel folded his arms across his chest, refusing to speak.

"I can't do this alone," Cas confessed, blue eyes searching Gabriel's gold ones for _something_.

"You can."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to."

And even on the days that he'd fucking ached with missing him, Gabriel hadn't got in contact with Castiel. He didn't even know if he could, of course - Cas changed phone numbers so often that he was damn near impossible to track, which was of course purposeful, but all the same. Gabriel hadn't even tried, which meant something, though he didn’t know what. But in all those times, even when he hadn't had Cas, he hadn't been completely alone. He'd always had Sam to pray to, Sam who he could tell anything to without the worry of any kind of judgment.

Tonight, Sam had disappeared.

And Cas had come back.

It would have been so, so easy for Gabriel to take that as a sign and to leave Alfie behind and alone in their apartment and to grab Cas' hand and run off into the sunset with him. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to stay and he wanted to kick ass in his interview and make enough money to give Alfie a house and a dog someday so that he'd never have to worry about anything. Not money. Not their relationship. And certainly not monsters that might be trying to break down their door.

"Hell no. Dad's not my problem anymore. I got an interview at nine AM. Best of luck finding him, feel free to Snapchat me when you do, but I don't wanna be a part of it. So you can leave. And I don't wanna see you here again."

Cas gave up. "Fine. If that's what you want, Gabriel, then I'll get out of your way."

He hit the button for the elevator, and Gabriel stood in silence to wait for it with him. He wasn't sure why. He supposed after three years apart, it was only natural to want to cling to the brief few moments he got to spend with his brother, before walking out of his life all over again.

The elevator dinged and Castiel got in. He threw Gabe one final pleading look, but Gabriel kept his face hard and didn't respond, and then the doors swung shut.

~~~~

Gabriel sank down to the floor, not caring about the dirt and grime all over it, his back pressed against the peeling wall. He closed his eyes, and did the only thing he could think of; the only thing that had made sense to him his entire life.

_Archangel Samuel, can you hear me?_

He closed his eyes, listening for a rush of wings. None came. He hadn't expected them to, and he continued anyway.

_Sam. I know you're probably... not around. I'd rather not think about why that is. Either you've left me or you've been taken away from me and honestly I don't know which is worse. But on the offchance that you get this later, maybe as like a prayer voicemail or something - keep Cas safe. Whether or not he finds Dad, just make sure that he's safe. And alive. And maybe even happy, if that's a thing that a hunter can be. Thanks, and I won't bother you again._

_Amen._

That was the most he could do. He'd given it a shot, and now he could cast Cas from his mind again and go back to the life he'd made with Alfie. He picked himself up off the floor, brushed off his sweater and let himself back into the apartment. He didn't know how he was going to explain this away. Maybe Alfie wouldn't ask him to. Maybe he'd be in bed already, and he'd just pull back the comforter and offer to let Gabriel curl up around him and sleep away the bad memories, waking him with coffee and waffles early tomorrow morning, along with a good luck kiss for the interview.

That hopeful thought helped him as he let himself back into the apartment, salted the doors and windows for the night and headed into the bedroom. Alfie wasn't there and the bed was empty, but Gabe could hear the shower running, so he let himself collapse to the bed and pull out his phone, reading through a couple of texts from his friends with good wishes for tomorrow, smiling shakily to himself.

He felt something drip onto his forehead.

Drip.

Drip.

He cast his phone aside, staring at the ceiling - and his eyes fixed on Alfie, pinned there by something or someone invisible, eyes wide and terrified as they should never have had to be, blood seeping from his stomach staining the white striped parts of his shirt into nothing more than a mass of red.

"No!" The cry was torn out of Gabriel and he screamed aloud, getting up to reach uselessly for Alfie. "Alfie, no, please no!"

He clambered onto the bed, his arms almost but not quite long enough to grab at Alfie's hand, and then there were the flames, golden tendrils ripping across the ceiling engulfing Alfie and everything around them, and Gabriel didn't let it stop him, still lunging for Alfie in the center of it all, hands flapping about wildly until a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him up despite every protest he made, carrying him away from every good thing that had ever happened to him.

~~~~

"Still holding onto that crappy pimp car, I see?"

"You think it's crappy?"

Gabriel shivered in the cold November air outside the apartment with a brother who hadn't left at all when Gabriel had told him to, Castiel's hand rubbing his back soothingly as they stood in front of the car Cas had driven here in.

Gabriel turned, stared back at his apartment building, the same one he'd been able to come back to every day for the past two and a half years. Where he'd made his college memories with Sam and with Alfie and who knew how many other people. And then his face tightened, and he made up his mind, turning away from the smoke, watching the last sparks of the fire burn out, reflected in the shiny gold paint of the Continental.

"We got work to do."

He flung open the door to the passenger's side and climbed inside. The leather of the seats was hot and sticky against his skin somehow despite it being a cold, dark night. There were tears in the seats, a sticky mess of toffees on the inside of the glove compartment from the one time Gabriel had left them unwrapped as a kid, Castiel's old stuffed bee lodged irretrievably inside the air vents, and the initials CN + GN carved into the car's bodywork from that one rebellious day the two of them had had when their father was out. Gabriel was the first to admit that not only was it a pimp car, it was also a fucking mess, a worthless pile of metal garbage that Cas or his father before him should have got rid of years ago.

And for the first time since he’d left for Stanford, Gabriel was home.

 

[](http://postimage.org/)   
[.](http://postimage.org/)


	2. lazarus rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *drumroll* Introducing the last member of Team Free Love, the one we have yet to meet, the angel... Dean!!
> 
> Also featuring more art by the amazingly talented [angrysouffle](http://angrysouffle.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: descriptions of Hell/torture (although not super graphic.)

[](http://postimage.org/)   
[.](http://postimage.org/)

 

**** Gabriel's heart broke the day his brother Castiel was dragged to Hell by hellhounds. It kept breaking, and every day Gabriel would wake up feeling renewed and look to the side expecting to see his brother Castiel, only to be reminded each day by the empty bed next to him that Castiel was no longer here.

The worst part of all was that he knew everything was so much more painful for Cas himself. Once again, Gabriel had taken the easy way out, he'd left Cas to deal with the worst of the shit. And every day the same thoughts went through his head. His fault, all his fault. That was supposed to be him down there; he'd have happily switched places, happily stayed dead originally. He hadn't asked for Cas to bring him back. Hadn't asked to spend a year watching a clock tick down the minutes until his brother's death.

Gabriel searched for a way out. At first he searched for a way to bring Castiel back, and then later, when that proved fruitless, he searched for a way to join him. 

It was while he was looking for one of these two things, though he couldn't quite remember which, that he found Crowley.

~~~~

Castiel's soul lay cast aside on the rack, still smoking from its last torture session. The reprieve was the worst part. At least while he was being tortured he knew what he was dealing with, and had developed some half-decent coping mechanisms that almost helped him deal with the pain. While he was waiting, he was imagining, and a lot of the time that was worse.

His first few years, he'd imagined rescue. 

But then again, who would do that for him? Gabriel would go get his own life back, safe in the knowledge that Cas couldn't fuck it up for him a second time. Bobby was too sensible to mess with what was already dead. And apart from that, who did he have?

So he'd cast those thoughts aside, fading into a screaming eternity of pain beyond description, and he would have lost track of all time if it weren't for the timer next to him that ticked  _ forty years, two months, one week and five days. _

He used to look at other counters, but they terrified him more than the pain.

And then--

A noise; a rushing, crackling burst of energy sounded throughout Hell, and Castiel searched for the source of it.

There was a light.

There were always lights in Hell, and they never meant good things. There was the light of the burning poker, used to brand the initials of the torturer into a soul so that it could never forget its punisher. There was the light of the flaming torch, used to burn a soul alive until it cried out and fizzled into nothing more than a heap of charred ash, only to be reformed so that the process could be repeated over again. And there was the light of the glowing chains, used to bind a soul and tie it to the rack while it waited to have something else done to it, so that it could be screaming in agony even when there was no torturer around.

This light was not like those lights.

This light was a blue-white pulsing sphere, freely floating, contrasting the reds and oranges of the constant fires of Hell, and it was calling out for attention, making everyone around want to look, to see more of, as opposed to the other lights that everyone flinched away from.

Even from this distance away, Castiel could feel his soul healing. Broken pieces of it scattered all across Hell, claimed by his torturers, were making their way back to him, all drawn to the irresistible pull of the light. It didn't seem to be happening to any of the other souls. A magnetic attraction solely for Castiel.

The light grew closer and the pull grew stronger, stronger, until it was impossible to resist.

It wasn't just his soul that Castiel could feel being pieced back together. It was other things, too, other parts of him that he'd almost forgotten about, having gone for more years without them than with them - all gathering towards the foreign, mysterious, tempting light.

And inside the light there was a being unlike any Cas had ever seen before; one with multiple faces and wings and more scaly, black limbs than Castiel could count, and yet it wasn't twisted or demonic, it was pure. It had been created to be just like that, and the light emanated from a thin circlet that spun just above it, unattached to anything else. 

And the light reached its peak, congregating in the very center of Hell, every demon turning from their task to stare at the foreign intruder that should never have been allowed in as the light shot up, high past the highest racks of old, near-forgotten souls, so high that it escaped the confines of Hell itself, dragging Castiel's soul with it, until with glorious triumph it reached a plot of land on the outskirts of Pontiac, Illinois.

A voice rang out across the heavens, the angel Dean proclaiming his success to a million other angels, the exultance in his tone making every one of them take notice and tune in to the announcement.

_ Castiel Novak is Saved. _

_ Castiel Novak is Saved. _

_ Castiel Novak is Saved. _

~~~~

Castiel coughed.

There was something in his mouth. It tasted familiar. Grainy and bitter and sticking to the back of his throat, but somehow fresh at the same time. 

He opened his eyes. It was just as dark.

He moved. Didn't get very far in any direction before he hit solid walls. He seemed to be in some kind of box.

After a few moments of elbow bumps and trying to figure out how to work an actual body again, he managed to dig a hand into his pocket and pull out the lighter that was stashed there, clicking it on.

It didn't help him to see much. Only the thin trickle of dirt making its way down from a small crack, that led to even more darkness.

It was a good starting point.

He put his shoulder into it, using up all the strength he'd gathered lying down for - how long had he been lying down for? And shouldn't not using your body make it weaker, not stronger? Probably, but he wasn't going to complain about the fact that it wasn't too difficult for him to claw his way out of the box - the coffin, he supposed - through a thin layer of dirt and up to the surface.

The wood of the coffin looked cheap and it was buried shallow. It occurred to Castiel that Gabriel had probably done the burial himself. He didn't want to picture the look on his brother's face when he'd had to do that.

Castiel stood in the center of a forest clearing. At least he thought it was a forest clearing at first, but further inspection showed him that it was just a forest, only all the trees around him had been blown away, with him as the central point.

Strange.

Almost as strange as the fact that he, a dead man, who had chosen his own fate by selling his soul to save his brother many years ago (far too many years ago, he could barely imagine everything that must have changed now, that very same brother must be approaching old age, if he was even still alive) was now standing and walking through a forest, his body as young and clean as it had been the day he'd been ripped apart by hellhounds.

Memories started to trickle back to him, most of them involving fire and chains and pain.

They were things he'd rather have forgotten, but he supposed that the memories helped. For one thing, he knew for a fact that he hadn't seen Gabriel down there once during his forty year stint. And if Gabriel hadn't been in Hell, then that put him in either Earth or Heaven, which were by far the preferable options, and meant that Castiel had done his job. And that was all that was important.

But now... he was back. Why was he back?

More importantly, he was thirsty, dehydrated from the effort of moving the coffin. He stumbled through the trees and eventually found himself at an abandoned gas station, miles from seemingly anything. He shouldered his way in and drank three straight bottles of water that he took from the fridge, feeling a tightness on his shoulder as he did so. He figured it was just from the manual labor, but it couldn't hurt to check...

He shrugged off the plaid shirt he'd been buried in (the green one, always his favorite, of course Gabriel knew that) and inspected himself in a cracked glass mirror that he saw behind the counter.

At first he thought it was just a bruise, but--

It was a scar, huge, red and shiny, shaped like a handprint, splayed across his left shoulder.

Castiel raised his hand to the print and held it against it. It didn't fit. It was too broad, the fingers slightly shorter.

This had to be some new kind of torture, something Alastair had concocted - make Castiel feel like he's alive, like he's been saved, only to pull him back down here and crush his dreams all over again when Cas finds out that all he has is to suffer years of more torture without a break.

But if this was a torture, then Castiel was damn well going to make sure he enjoyed it for as long as possible before he was sucked back into the fires.

~~~~

There was a car outside the store and it wasn't his own, but it was enough to drive him to Bobby's. He showed up there ten hours later shaking from a combination of hunger and tiredness and was cordially greeted by a splash of holy water in the face followed by a jab at his arm with a knife, each of which he barely registered in his current state. Then, Bobby picked him up clean off the ground and carried him to a couch and let Castiel sleep, truly sleep, for the first time in over forty years.

His first words upon waking were, "Where's Gabriel?"

"He's not here. Last I heard he was looking for you. Haven't seen him in weeks."

"Looking for me?" Cas frowned, because he'd been sure that Gabriel knew exactly where he was.

Bobby chuckled. "Are you crazy? He's missed you more than I thought was possible. Been going insane trying to find a way to pull you out. Honestly? I've been worried about him. You should find him, first priority. Find him so he's out of his misery."

Cas wanted to, desperately. If he'd thought that seeing Gabriel was important before, that was nothing compared to his feelings once he realized that Gabriel hadn't forgotten about him. And yet... "There's something I have to do first."

"Kid, he's your brother. There's nothing you have to do first."

"I have to know that I'm safe. What if something bad brought me back, and it puts him in danger too? I have to figure out why I'm here, if I am even here and aren't just making this all up in my head, so that I know what I'm dealing with before I see him."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Wise words, son."

"Will you help me?"

~~~~

"Are you sure the ritual was right?" Castiel frowned, glancing around the barn that he and Bobby were standing in, looking for any sign of a disturbance.

As if on cue, there was a loud rattle from outside, one that didn't sound like it was caused by the weather at all. Castiel and Bobby both lunged for their shotguns, each of them standing tall and pointing their weapons at the door, ready to rain fire on whatever burst through them.

The old wooden doors swung open, accompanied by a loud creak, and the first thing Cas saw was a crackle, as though a hundred sparklers were going off in the doorway. Then, the fireworks died down just enough for Cas to see what was striding through them.

It looked like a man. And not just any man - a young man, thirties perhaps, with sun lightened hair and evergreen eyes, wrapped in a suit and a trench coat that was a couple of sizes too big.

He didn't look threatening. Even the lights in the barn overhead sputtering through their last bursts of electricity upon sight of the creature, couldn't make it seen threatening.

But Castiel had seen enough demons to know that what looked like a man wasn't necessarily actually a man, and so he shot, bullet after bullet pouring out of his shotgun and into the thing's chest, Cas vaguely aware of Bobby doing the same thing beside him.

The figure walked through the oncoming barrage as though completely unaffected by whatever was hitting it. A ghost, perhaps, or some other spirit without a physical form that couldn't be affected by guns? Though it certainly looked solid enough. 

Cas slid a knife out of his belt, a knife he'd been given by an unexpected ally, as a last ditch attempt. So often before, this had worked where nothing else had. He held it tight in one hand, tucked under his leather jacket, his knuckles hurting from the grip, and stepped forward into the creature's personal space to meet it head on.

"Who are you?" he growled

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

Cas' eyes darkened. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

He leapt forward without warning, plunging the knife deep into the being's heart.

Then he stepped back, shaking, willing his legs to keep holding him up, breathing heavily, waiting for whatever this  _ thing _ was to fall to the floor.

It didn't.

It merely glanced down, raised an eyebrow at Castiel, and plucked the knife out, tossing it high in the air and sending it spinning to the floor. Cas didn't even think to try and catch it.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Dean. I'm an angel of the Lord."

"An angel? There's no such thing." Cas said the words automatically. He'd heard his father say them to his brother enough times that they came without thought.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Think it's pretty clear that there is. How else would we be here?"

He took a step back, his trench coat billowing in the wind still coursing through the open door, his hair rumpled and his face set in concentration - and as he lifted his arms, a pair of shadows burst from Dean's back, shadows that had no discernible source but were clearly in the shape of wings taller than Dean himself.

A flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder outside, and they were gone. Cas didn't know if the weather was connection or coincidence.

"And you said you- you gripped me tight, and raised me from-" Cas was shaking, both taken aback from the shock of the wings and still half-caught up on the idea that this was some kind of elaborate torture, that Alastair was perhaps even more creative than he'd first realized.

"Perdition. Not sure why I said that. It's, uh, a fancy word for Hell, in case you hadn't figured that one out. A lot of the angels are still kind of stuck in the BC times. Not that you need to care about the language angels use."

"Yes, I'm less concerned about that and more wondering why an angel would pull me from Hell at all."

Dean diverted his gaze and looked down at the floor, and Castiel could swear that was red in his cheeks. Clearly he'd been saved by not just any angel, but an angel who blushed.

"God works in mysterious ways. Sure you've heard the saying before."

"But why me? Out of everyone in there, Dean, why me?"

And Dean looked just as confused as Castiel himself, even as he gave the definitive answer, "Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

~~~~

As much as Castiel couldn't stop thinking about the angel Dean, there was one other person who still occupied front and center in his thoughts, and who probably always would. Bobby had no leads on where Gabriel might be, but if there was ever a time when he was grateful for his father training him how to track people down, it was right now. It took him less than two days to figure out that Gabe was hiding in a motel not far from where Cas himself had been buried, and Cas fully intended to lecture him on covering his tracks better once he was done hugging the daylights out of him.

Castiel drove all the way back in the old decrepit car from the gas station, which was completely on its last legs and almost broke down more than once on the highways. When he finally arrived at his destination just as dawn broke, he blew out a shuddering breath of relief when he saw the golden car sparkling in the early morning sunlight outside the motel.

His Continental. Gabriel had kept it safe the whole time.

He'd half expected Gabriel to trash it. However long he'd been away, and Castiel was starting to suspect it was less and less time by the moment, would still have been plenty of time for Gabriel to sell it off for some extra money or trade it in for something he considered more appropriate for hunting, less obtrusive. But he hadn't, and that gave Castiel some kind of hope, because he thought that the only reason Gabriel would have kept the car was because he was still searching for Cas, hadn't given up on getting him back. 

He couldn't stop himself from detouring. He didn't have the keys and there was no way he was going to break into his Baby and risk hurting her, but he could stand next to the driver's side door for a moment, leaning against the sun-heated metal, remembering what it felt like to drive down an empty highway, going faster and faster in the knowledge that he wouldn't see another car for miles.

Of everything Cas had missed about Earth when he was down in Hell, the peace and quiet of the highway had been one of the hardest things to go without. He wanted to be back there, right now, so much that it ached. 

But even that was nothing in comparison to how badly he wanted to talk to Gabriel.

He got the room number out of the guy on the desk, dashing up three flights of stairs and knocking on the door before he could even think of what kind of welcome he'd get, adrenaline pumping through him for those last few seconds until the door cautiously opened, and a face framed in golden hair peered round-

"Gabriel," Cas breathed, a piece of his heart sliding right back into place upon catching sight of his brother.

He only caught a momentary glimpse of the horror and hurt on Gabriel's face before Gabe’s face tightened and he lunged for a bottle on the table by the door, uncapping it and launching it towards Cas.

Cas swung his arm and held Gabriel's wrist in a tight grip, the two of them evenly matched, neither able to wrench the holy water from the other, and Cas choked out his words.

"Gabriel - how old are you?"

That probably hadn't been what Gabriel was expecting, but to the guy's credit, he didn't hesitate. "I'm twenty-five, bro, and offended by the idea that I could look any older. Now are you gonna shut the fuck up and let me pour some holy water on you or not?"

"That's not a day older than when I left."

"To be really specific, it's four months older than when you left. Now close your mouth. I've been unlucky enough to learn in recent times that this stuff? Tastes like shit."

Castiel did as he was told, and a moment later, he had a faceful of holy water. He shook his head rapidly like a dog, blinking the worst of it out, and he barely had time to recover before he felt Gabriel grab his arm and slice it open with a knife.

"Some welcome, Gabe."

"Oh, yeah, like you'd be so damn proud of me if I swept you up in a hug and put myself in danger for the sake of a loving reunion."

Castiel had to concede that point, and he couldn't deny that a huge part of him had missed Gabriel's snark. 

They stared at each other for a moment, and then, in a completely uncharacteristic move, Gabriel rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around Cas. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Cas mumbled into Gabe's shoulder. "Thought about you every day."

Then, as quickly as the emotional moment had started, it was gone again, the two of them retreating several paces back and just staring at each other.

"We should probably talk," Cas began, "about what exactly it was that saved me from Hell. Because I know what it was, Gabe, and not to be dramatic, but... it changes everything."

Gabriel held up a hand in warning. "You might not want to talk just yet. We're not alone."

A balding, slightly chubby, older man strolled out of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms across his bare stomach, wearing nothing but a pair of deep red silk boxers and looking like he wasn't in the least ashamed of this fact.

In a British accent, he said, "Hello, boys."

~~~~

"My brother believes in an angel."

It was a few days since Castiel had got the memo that despite Bobby's reassurances, his brother had in fact successfully moved on without him once again; found a replacement for Cas in his life. This one was called Crowley, but Crowley was no different to Alfie who in a way had been no different from Samuel himself, which was what had brought Cas onto the topic. And now Cas was discussing it with the replacement he himself had found, who was sitting in the same passenger seat of the same car that Cas and Gabe had spent years driving in together.

Dean smirked. "You say that like it's a strange thing. Pretty sure lots of people believe in angels, Cas."

"Not hunters," Cas shook his head, putting his foot down on the accelerator and speeding off into the night, not going anywhere in particular, just looking for open, deserted roads. "We kill on sight. As you might have seen when we met. Most of us don't have it in us to believe that there are good supernatural creatures."

"There aren't," Dean said, bluntly, and for a moment it seemed like that was all he was going to say. But then- 

"Angels aren't good, Cas. If you haven't figured that out by now, then I guess I gotta be the one to tell you. Angels are soldiers, trained warriors who were created to do God's bidding. Most of us don't even have thoughts of our own. Honestly, you were right to try to kill me. Most angels? That's what I'd recommend too."

Cas didn't want to believe that. "Yeah. Well. I'm glad I failed," he said to an empty windscreen, not looking Dean in the eyes.

There was a long silence before Dean spoke again.

"So your brother? He believes in angels? Well, he's right that they're real, but he's wrong to believe in them."

Cas shook his head slowly, deciding for himself right then and there that no matter what might happen between them from now on, Gabriel could never know about this conversation. It took a lot to get Gabriel to believe in something, and Cas couldn't stand to see him get crushed like that.

"He thinks I don't know. But I heard him pray when we were growing up, and I still hear him sometimes. But it's not the abstract concept of angels he believes in. It's one specific angel."

Dean looked like he didn't want to ask, afraid of what the answer might be. But then-

"Which angel?"

"The archangel Samuel. Do you know him?"

Dean's lips parted in an expression of shock, and it was clear that whoever he'd expected Cas to say, it wasn't that.

Cas didn't press, though he was even more curious now. He waited.

Dean took a deep breath."We were close. Samuel was never supposed to pay attention to a low level seraph like me. But he never looked down on me like I figured he should. Never treated me as anything less. Because of him, I rose higher in the ranks than anybody expected me to, and because of him, I got noticed by God. Noticed enough that I was the one chosen to come rescue you from Hell."

"You  _ were _ close? Is the past tense intentional?"

"Yeah. This was all a long time ago. We were close, and then he Fell."

Castiel couldn't keep his gasp inside, fighting the urge to recoil away from Dean, even though Dean himself had done nothing wrong. "He Fell? You mean like Lucifer?"

Dean shook his head immediately. "Nothing like Lucifer. When Lucifer Fell, he became something else, some kind of twisted version of an angel, more like a half-angel, half-demon hybrid, if you can imagine anything so damn terrifying. Samuel... Sam, he always let me call him... he's still a full archangel, because he didn't exactly Fall. He jumped. He chose it for himself one day, wished me luck in my future, went down to Earth and never came back. Oh, and he gave me one of his halos too. The smallest one. For protection, safekeeping, whatever you want to call it. Kind of like how you have a memento of your brother, too." He pointed at the strange necklace, still fastened around Castiel's neck.

Cas reached up to rub it between his fingers, almost without realizing it. "Do you miss him?"

"Miss him? I miss him more than anything, dammit. Can't do this without him. But I got no way of finding him. I just know he's safe." Dean dug into the pocket of his trench coat, searching for something. When he opened the palm of his hand to Cas, at first it looked empty, but then Dean squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated hard, and after a moment, a small gold circlet flickered into being. It didn't look quite real, rather, it looked like it had been formed out of golden smoke or maybe even fire, constantly dancing and twirling around but never losing its shape.

"Is that-" Cas wanted to touch it, but he assumed he wouldn't be able to. Either it would hurt him, or he would hurt it, and neither was a good option.

"Sam's halo, yeah. It's still made out of his Grace, attached to him, so if he dies or becomes human, it'll burn out. Long as it looks like this, he's safe."

~~~~

There were sixty-six seals to free Lucifer from Hell, and Castiel had just helped stop one of them from being opened. He supposed he should feel good about that. He didn't. 

"So this 'work', that I'm doing for God, or more specifically for one of God's sergeant majors - stopping the seals from being broken? That's what I'm expected to do?"

Dean shook his head. "We got plenty of men on that already. Not saying we couldn't always use more help, but I think we got it covered. Your part comes later."

"My part comes later?" Castiel scowled, pacing the room. "You brought me here with no explanation, toyed with me, used me as a puppet for one of your fun little games, and now you're telling me to sit tight and wait to find out why I'm here?"

Dean stopped him with a hand on Castiel’s chest, one which seemed to knock more energy out of Cas than any normal human hand would.

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in," Dean growled, his hand fisted in Castiel's leather jacket, his furious, terrifying face just inches away from Castiel's.

They froze, a perfect draw, neither of them wanting to let the other one win, staring into each other’s eyes.

So Castiel did something that was completely insane, that he would never have even considered doing if it weren't for far too many years of growing up alongside someone as reckless and impulsive as Gabriel.

He kissed him.

Didn't even think it through. Just surged forwards through the inches of space between them and stole an angel's lips with his own, his hands not even touching him, but just the pressure between their lips enough to ignite something inside Castiel, and it had been so long since he'd kissed a human that he could no longer remember whether kissing an angel was actually any better or not, but fuck, he couldn't possibly imagine feeling better than this.

As soon as Cas' brain caught up with what he was doing, he pulled back, horrified at himself. This had to be blasphemy of the highest order. 

Dean blinked, clearly taken by surprise.

"Or alternatively? I could show you Heaven."

Cas had to think back to Dean's words from a moment ago, but then he understood, and he groaned even as he felt a rush of relief, and of lust. "That's a terrible pickup line. Almost enough to make me go back on the decision I just made."

"Yeah, well, I've been watching humanity for far too long. Bound to pick up the slang at some point, I guess."

"You gonna live up to that fucking promise of yours?" Now Castiel was the one who was tugging on Dean's trench coat, creasing the material as he tried to pull him from the room. "And you better not take me to actual Heaven, you assbutt."

Cas brought Dean back to to the bed, trying to get rid of both their clothes as fast as possible, and he wasn't sure when 'quickie with an angel' had jumped right to the top of his to-do list but it was clearly there now. Dean seemed perfectly happy to leave his own clothes in a heap on the floor, but when it came to Cas, he stopped him. Instead, Dean gently slid Cas' leather jacket off his shoulders before leaving it to pool on the floor, undoing every button of Cas' plaid shirt one by one as though it were made of spun sugar.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked, squirming under the intensity of Dean's gaze.

"Don't wanna rush this, Cas. I rebuilt this body myself, I know how it works, I know everywhere you want to be touched, Cas. Just let me give it to you. The first person who's touched the brand new version of this body. It's too... too delicate for me to hurt."

Dean sounded like the words surprised even him, but Cas couldn't reply. He could only close his eyes and let his body shiver and relax, allowing Dean to finish the job, getting him completely naked and laying him out on the bed.

Dean stood and looked, and to Cas at least, his eyes didn't look like sex eyes. They looked reverent, much the same way as someone would behold a famous piece of artwork, or a meteor shower, or a stained glass window in church. But it was the wrong way round. Surely it was supposed to be Cas looking at an angel like that?

The thought made Cas wonder. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Kind of." Dean deflected the question, averting his eyes.

Castiel chuckled. "I was in high school for long enough to know that 'kind of' means 'no.'"

Dean kissed Cas on the lips, dragging his tongue across them slowly, testing what it felt like. Then he pulled away, and replied. "Well, I never went to high school, but it's a bit different for angels. I've never had what you humans would call sex. That said, angels are able to mate in their true forms, which is the closest equivalent we have."

"True form?" Cas frowned, pulling back to look Dean in the eyes. "You mean you don't really look like..."

He gestured to Dean's naked body, blushing, and Dean shook his head. "No. This is a vessel. A consensual possession, I guess you'd say. But I can talk to him, and he's fine with this."

Cas nodded. "So, your true form. What does it look like?"

"It's approximately the size of your Chrysler building. And yeah, that was a dick joke."

"Of all the angels who could have pulled me from Hell, I had to get the one who makes dick jokes." He was still curious about Dean's appearance, but sensed that Dean was avoiding the subject.

Dean straddled Cas, one knee on either side of Cas' hips, hands planted on the bed next to Cas' head, looming over him. "Are you complaining, Castiel Novak?"

Cas swallowed hard and shook his head.

"Yeah, that's what I was hoping." Dean grinned.

Dean climbed off the bed and picked up the blue tie he'd discarded on the floor earlier, pulling it tight between his hands, standing next to where Cas lay on the bed. "So, Cas. I may be older and more experienced than you can possibly imagine, but you've heard of a safeword, right?"

Cas nodded.

"You have one?"

"Kimber," Cas exhaled, and when Dean prompted him for more, he added, "It's a make of gun. First gun I ever shot."

Dean nodded, satisfied, then held the tie over Cas' mouth, giving him enough room to speak still but making it clear what he was about to do. "Alright. You need it, you pray it. I'll hear. Hear it louder than any other prayer, because you're right in the room with me. Do you trust me?"

Castiel knew he shouldn't. He should be terrified of the angel of Tuesday, the one who threatened to return him to his worst nightmares, who had himself confessed that angels weren't good at all. And yet he looked into Dean's eyes, and he saw nothing but adoration, and it was something he had never expected to see from anyone, let alone an angel.

Knowing it was the last word he would get to say for a while, Castiel breathed, "Yes."

Clearly, even though Dean had little practical experience with these matters, he'd done an excellent job of observing humanity. They hadn't even done anything yet and Cas was already hard, already aching for it.

"I want you to stay still for me, Castiel, can you do that? Stay exactly where you are and let me take care of you."

Cas nodded, whimpering through the gag, fighting to stop his hips from thrusting up into thin air.

Dean snapped a bottle of lube into existence, uncapping it and squirting it all over his hand. Cas' breathing sped up, eagerly anticipating the press of fingers into his hole, but none came. Instead, Dean reached around behind himself, slowly pushing a finger inside, letting out a shuddered breath at the intrusion. Cas gripped the sheets in his hands, because somehow watching Dean fuck himself, seeing the slide of Dean's finger in and out, was even hotter than if Dean was doing it to him, and Cas knew that if he'd had permission his hand would have been on his own cock right now.

"Dean," he tried to moan, but he could barely get the word out through the gag.

Dean raised a cocky eyebrow at him, and his only response was to add a second finger, stretching himself open wider.

He glanced down at Cas' cock, which jerked and let out another dribble of precome just from having Dean's eyes on it. "I'm gonna need three fingers if you're going to fit, aren't I?" he mused.

That just wasn't fair, and Cas tightened his grip on the sheets, his knuckles white He stared up at Dean, begging him with his eyes.

"Don't touch yourself, Cas. That body is mine, you understand me? I'm the only one who gets to do this."

He reached down and wrapped his other hand around Cas' cock, and if he'd been allowed then Cas knew he could have come from just that. As it was, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to resist, even though Dean's hand had the perfect amount of pressure around him.

"Yeah, that's right. Mine. You were chosen by an angel, and why would you want anyone else after that, when you've seen what I can do to you, just like this?" Dean pressed a third finger inside himself, bucking onto his own hand, his body rippling beautifully and sparkling in the starlight that fell through the windows. He truly did look angelic.

"Do you want me to ride you, Cas? Do you want to feel what it does to me when I have you filling me up, just like my own fingers, but even better?"

Cas nodded vigorously, because he could see the way Dean's hole was tightening around his own fingers, and he wanted to feel that around his cock more than anything.

"I should make you wait. And someday I will. Someday I'll have you lie beneath me and beg me for hours. But for now, I think we've both been waiting long enough."

Dean pulled his fingers out of himself with a wet squelching sound, and Cas had to clench his teeth around the tie when he felt Dean spread lube all over his cock.  Dean hovered above him, holding himself in position, teasing Cas with the promise of what was just a few seconds away.

Cas' breath hitched and his whole body trembled with the effort of keeping still and not grabbing Dean and forcing him down onto his cock.

Ever, ever so slowly, Dean lowered himself onto Cas' cock, taking a tiny bit more of him at a time, both of them staring into each other's eyes with the same wild, needy desperation, the two of them getting closer and closer together until Dean's hips were resting right on top of Cas', with Cas' cock pulsing inside of him.

Dean opened his mouth in a silent, pained groan, and when words escaped it, they weren't like any that Castiel had heard before. They were rough and raw, ripped from something deep, as though Dean had no control over any of them. " _ Oiad l-baltoh vvrbs ol loncho oiad ollog _ , Castiel."

Cas understood his name, but nothing more. He felt like he should have been scared by the rest of the words, but he wasn't - in fact, he was strangely comforted, and he rolled his hips upwards, driving himself further into Dean. 

Dean let out a gasp, his eyes flying open, gripping the sheets in pleasure. Cas was pretty sure he'd just hit Dean's prostate, and he thought he might be the first person ever to give Dean that exact feeling.

" _ Ol g-chis-ge noromi adgmach crvscanse drilpi irgil ol vran ol _ ," Dean panted, thrusting down faster onto Cas. Cas met every thrust, his whole body getting into it by this point, back arching, unable to follow Dean's instruction to stay still, but it didn't seem like Dean minded when he was this caught up in their movements.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer, and with the way Dean's cock was slapping against his stomach with every thrust, red and swollen and dripping, Cas thought he definitely wasn't the only one. Dean's voice cracked as he choked out," _ Ol vnig ol noasmi lit ol donasdogamatastos rgil olani netaab _ ," and by now Cas was barely registering the foreign words, his mind lost to a haze of sparks.

Cas felt the moment that Dean hit his orgasm, because Dean clenched around him, squeezing his cock even tighter, and Dean himself exploded all over Cas' stomach, his head thrown back and crying out, " _ Olani... ipamis... vran ladnah... oi olani... gemeganza... loncho... niis ol! _ "

Something about the words resonated all the way through Cas, sending vibrations straight to his cock, and in the same moment he felt Dean reach down and grasp Cas’ shoulder, exactly where that handprint shaped scar was. And when the hands met, Cas’ whole body tingled with something that wasn’t quite human, and the scar itself glowed, and Dean’s hand fit so perfectly that it felt like it was fused there. And Castiel was completely convinced for the first time that it was indeed Dean who had raised him from Hell, and he bucked his hips up one final time before coming hard inside of Dean and falling back to the mattress with a muffled scream.

Dean lifted himself up, careful again not to hurt Cas at all, and with the touch of two fingers to Cas' forehead they were both magically clean and dry, the two of them lying together on the cool cotton sheets. Dean undid the tie by hand, tossing the drool-soaked slip of fabric onto the floor and waiting while Cas figured out how to work his own jaw again.

They lay in comfortable silence until Cas spoke.

"That halo of Sam's you showed me. Does it look like yours, at all?"

Dean propped himself up on one elbow, hovering over Castiel. He looked confused for a moment, and then his face fell. "You don't remember," he said, in a flat voice.

"Remember what?"

"Me. Rescuing you from Hell."

Castiel thought back. He remembered plenty about Hell. He tried his very best not to, and yet he did. He remembered waiting on the rack the first day, not knowing what Alastair was going to do to him, terrified out of his mind. He remembered waiting there on the second day, even more terrified, because now he knew exactly what Alastair was going to do, and the realization was only just sinking in that he had to endure this not temporarily, not for the rest of his life, but for all eternity And he remembered the day when he realized that wasn't the case, when Alastair offered him a position as his apprentice. He remembered resisting. He remembered refusing. He remembered being tormented by the knowledge that the souls were going to get tortured either way, and that most of them had done terrible things to warrant it, so why shouldn't he be the one to do it?

He remembered picking up the knife on the first day, and he remembered learning that knowing he was causing that level of pain in somebody was a far greater torture than having it done to him.

But leaving? He didn't remember leaving. He remembered Hell, but leaving hadn't been Hell, it had been hope and future and second chances and those weren't things that existed in Hell - so how could he remember them? All he remembered was a hopeless eternity of nothing. And then - mud in his mouth, choking him in the best way, the feeling of the earth and life for the first time in years.

"I don't even remember you being there. If I didn't have you to tell me everything, I wouldn't have known how I'd escaped."

Dean sank back onto the pillows, letting out a sigh. "Right. Yeah. Probably for the best."

Castiel frowned, shifting closer to him, trying to snuggle into his side despite the fact that Dean was an angel and angels almost certainly did not cuddle. "Is there something I should know?"

"No. I just brought it up because you mentioned my halo and I thought that if you remembered me in Hell, you'd have remembered seeing it. But there's nothing else.”

Cas wasn't at all convinced, but he let the matter drop when Dean draped an arm over his waist, shifting so that the two of them were on their sides with Dean's face buried into Castiel's hair.

Perhaps angels did cuddle.

 

[](http://postimage.org/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay see nobody's dying everyone's cuddling this is totally a happy fic... right??


	3. tall tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People go for ice cream. Sidenote: Continental Drift is the real name of an ice cream sundae that my friend makes, and it has nothing to do with this fic or the show, but I totally had to include it here. It's just as delicious as it sounds.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: temporary major character death, descriptions of demon blood drinking

**** The first time Gabriel drank, he had flashbacks.

He wasn't talking about alcohol. Beer made him sleepy and way too philosophical, vodka made him want to dance around the room to terrible pop songs, and those alcoholic Shirley Temples that Balthazar always made when they were getting ready to go out in college made him want to sleep with the nearest willing person. 

This wasn't alcohol. This was new and different and it was something that only Crowley could give him.

Once he started drinking, Gabriel found it difficult to stop, and he slurped greedily, Crowley's arm clutched between his hands, until finally he pulled away with a few droplets of red hanging from how lower lip. As soon as he was done drinking, Gabriel fell back to the bed, his eyes wide and trembling as his body tried to accept what it had just been given, and then the room faded from his view and--

He remembered.

He remembered a case. It hadn't seemed like a special case at first; just a routine hunt that Castiel had suggested they go on. He'd been kind of mad at Cas at the time, the two of them driving each other crazy being locked up in that car together almost twenty-four hours a day, stopping for five minute restroom and candy breaks before jumping back into their respective seats and setting off down the road again. Cas was scared from his recent near death experience, and he hadn't wanted to be caught, so they'd just kept moving constantly, even when they weren't going anywhere.

Here, at least, they’d actually been doing something, making some kind of progress towards their impossible goal of getting rid of every monster in the world. There'd been a body found, a professor on a university campus. Gabriel couldn't remember why exactly they thought this was suspicious, or if they even seriously did, but they made the drive up to Springfield, Ohio all the same.

Castiel and Gabriel put on their electrician's outfits, Gabriel frowning in the mirror at how the blue jumpsuit tugged unflatteringly at his stomach and generally made him look like a lumpy potato, but not complaining, even though Cas managed to look as perfect as usual. They showed up at the professor's office at school, where the murder had apparently happened, and let a janitor show them up to the room.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Gabriel almost didn't remember to ask the question. He was a bit caught up in the guy's appearance. He was fucking adorable, with floppy chestnut brown hair that fell over his deep hazel eyes whenever he moved, and he was tall too, exactly the right height that Gabriel could check out his ass when he walked up the stairs in front of the two of them. Perfect.

"I've been mopping this floor every day for six years."

Gabriel had to try really fucking hard to stay in character and not flirt openly right then and there. 'Perhaps you'd like to come over tonight and mop my floors, if you know what I'm saying,' was the sentence on the tip of his tongue. The guy was really far, far too cute to be a janitor. He looked like he should be on the Disney Channel or fronting some up and coming boy band that preteens screamed over. He reminded Gabriel of Alfie in that way; sweet and innocent and maybe a little bit ready to be corrupted.

Gabriel wondered. He eyed up the man during their whole conversation, and he could have been wrong, but he thought that the janitor was eyeing him up in return. And over the years, on cases, he'd become pretty good at telling when someone was actually interested in him, and when they were just pretending so that he wouldn't suspect them of doing anything wrong, or to avoid having to give information.

And he was pretty sure this was genuine interest.

On their way out, he turned back around, and was that the janitor's eyes on  _ his _ ass now? He thought they might have been. He shot the guy a wink and a smirk and caught a blush in response. Gabriel decided that when the case was over, he'd go find that janitor and ask him out for a drink. He'd deserve to blow off some steam, after all, after catching a monster.

~~~~

He caught the monster.

"No, it can't possibly be," Gabriel shook his head, listening to Castiel's explanation.

"Gabriel, I know you've been trying to fight me on everything I say recently, but there's really no other explanation." Cas was clearly getting exasperated with him by this point.

"It's not that. He's just... him? Are you serious? He's like an adorable puppy, he couldn't hurt a fucking fly."

Cas gave him a look of derision. "No, but he could brutally murder several people and then laugh about it afterwards? He's probably been doing this for years, maybe centuries. A rogue Trickster."

Trickster. Gabriel was the first to admit that his instincts had been wrong about people before, but then, when he did find out the truth, it usually made sense, and he cursed himself for not figuring out earlier what was going on. This just didn't fit at all. This guy seemed no more like a Trickster than Castiel did the next God or something. When Gabriel had first met the janitor, he'd seemed so safe, so familiar, even, like someone Gabriel could imagine having a genuine conversation with. And they'd never encountered any Tricksters in the past.

"I don't buy it. I don't."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "You don't have to 'buy it'. You just have to come with me and have my back while I 'stake him'."

"Your second set of air quotes were a little off there, Cas," Gabriel grumbled, stalking out of the room in a fit of annoyance.

He agreed, of course, to a plan that used Cas as bait and had him go in there to talk to the janitor - Gabriel refused to call him a Trickster unless they got some actual proof - on his own, with Gabriel standing by ready to provide backup if he needed. Castiel originally suggested that Gabriel be the one to go and talk to the guy, since he was the one who was actually interested in him, but Gabriel worried that Cas would come running in and stab the guy without any real proof, and he couldn't risk that happening.

Gabe felt wrong as the two of them made their way to the auditorium. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something just seemed off about the whole situation, and it was far more than just him and Cas fighting, even though that was what his brain tried its best to blame the whole thing on.

And, of course, Castiel was right. He was right because he was always right; the perfectly trained hunter who'd always done his best to stick to his father's plan while Gabriel had slacked off. This guy was the Trickster, and certainly not Gabriel's new boyfriend or whatever ridiculous fantasy he'd concocted for himself in his head, and Gabriel really fucking needed to stop letting his instincts take over and rely instead on actual facts.

He watched, his vision blurring and his whole world tilting on the side as Castiel plunged the stake into the Trickster's chest, forcing him down into one of the stiff theater chairs, his eyes wide and frightened at being finally beaten. A half eaten candy bar fell as though in slow motion from the his hand and onto the floor, and Gabriel heard the small thump it made when it collided.

"Nice job," Gabe smirked.

"As hot as those random figments of the Trickster's imagination were, I think I'd rather spend the night with you," Castiel laughed, throwing an arm around Gabriel's shoulders as the two of them walked back to the car from the auditorium, and in that moment everything felt okay between them again, their fighting and restlessness from the past few weeks suddenly not at all important.

And that's just what they did. The two of them made their way back to the motel, and instead of heading into their separate rooms like they had for the past couple of nights, Gabriel had followed Castiel into his and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. They'd clinked the glass bottles together and sat crosslegged on the bed together, sharing jokes and memories, until Cas had flopped back onto the bed and passed out halfway through the second drink.

Gabriel tucked the blankets around Cas and made sure he was lying in his usual sleeping position (on his side, with one arm bent above his head underneath his pillow, ready to grab a weapon in a moment if he needed to) since that'd give him the best chance of not waking. Cas had been doing far more worrying than sleeping recently. He deserved a night of good rest.

Then, Gabe had switched off the light and closed the door with a click. He’d thought about staying, sleeping curled up next to Castiel in his bed, but the two of them hadn’t done that for years. It wa still too soon, so Gabriel headed into his own room instead.

There was somebody waiting for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted, and at the time he'd worried it could be a hallucination, although it turned out that only this memory of it was. Because it was the Trickster, the same one who Castiel had just killed, following the lore to the letter - and yet here he was without any kind of wound, looking just as happy and healthy as he had when they'd stumbled upon him in the auditorium.

The Trickster didn't answer. He just flicked his eyes up and down Gabriel's body, and he didn't look cute anymore. Didn't look like he should be on Disney Channel. A villain on a crime show would be more accurate. But, Gabriel had to concede, he still managed to be hot as hell.

And then--

"How do you feel about going for ice cream?"

Gabe snorted. "Did you just show up at my motel room two hours after my brother and I murdered you, and ask me out for ice cream?"

The Trickster raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I said anything about asking you out. That part was all you."

Gabriel blushed. "I... it was a turn of phrase."

"A turn of phrase? Or maybe wishful thinking?"

Gabriel felt flustered, caught off guard, and he wasn't used to feeling like that. He was used to being the one in charge when it came to flirting, especially while on cases. He was used to the things he killed staying dead. 

"Wishful thinking? In case you hadn't noticed, I literally had my brother drive a wooden stake through your heart. I don't think that's usually seen as a mating ritual. Or did I miss that part of the lore on Tricksters?" Snark was always the best response to being thrown off guard, after all.

"No, there's nothing in the lore. But then again, whoever said I followed the lore?" The Trickster stepped forwards, standing inches away from Gabriel, and reached out to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. Gabriel shivered beneath the touch. "And don't think I didn't see you checking me out earlier. You can't hide anything from me, Gabriel Novak."

"How do you know my real name?" Gabriel breathed.

The Trickster just waggled his eyebrows and took Gabriel by the wrist. There was a small bang and a puff of smoke, and the two of them found themselves in a small, private booth in the corner of a Fifties style ice cream parlor. There were menus sitting on the table in front of each of them, and there was even a fucking balloon shaped like a golden heart tied to the Trickster's wrist.

"Stop fucking showing off. You know my brother has a car? I could have just driven you?"

The Trickster threw back his head in a laugh. "Yes, but where would be the fun in that? I know the two of you have a thing about driving everywhere, but... here, in this personal ice cream shop that I created especially for you, things will be so much more perfect."

Gabriel's eyes widened. Especially for him?

The Trickster smirked, as though he could read his thoughts. "Read the menu. You'll see."

Gabriel picked up the menu and scanned it. Every option looked absolutely mouthwatering, and not a single option contained an ingredient or combination that he didn't love. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to make a decision between everything listed. "These are all my favorites. How did you-"

"How do I do anything? People have been trying to figure that one out for years."

Gabriel sighed, leaning his head back on the bench behind him. He could feel a headache coming on.

"I think sugar might go some way to solving that headache. If you're struggling, then allow me to order for you."

At that exact moment, a waiter appeared at that table, dressed in an old fashioned outfit and holding a pad of paper and a pen. "What can I get for you two gentlemen?"

Gabriel managed to keep his noise of derision inside. He wouldn't exactly have described either of them as gentlemen.

The Trickster leaned forward with a slow, easy smile. "We'll take two Continental Drifts, please. And two coffees. Make them strong. We might need to be up for a while."

The waiter nodded, noting down their order, and then Gabriel turned to fix the Trickster with a questioning look. "Why those ice creams?" It was easier to comment on than the coffee.

"Continental Drift. I'm guessing the name reminds you of your brother. Vanilla ice cream on one side of the bowl. Chocolate ice cream on the other, and a veritable ocean of chocolate sauce between the two of them. All topped off with whipped cream, sprinkles, crumbled cookies, and a cherry, as I'm sure won't surprise you in the slightest. Thought it sounded perfect for you."

Gabriel couldn't stop his mouth from watering, and when the bowl finally arrived and turned out to be bigger than Gabriel's head, he managed to polish off the entire thing.

~~~~

"So. I hope you didn't eat too much ice cream."

Gabriel rubbed his stomach and found that it was, in fact, perfectly content with the amount of ice cream it had been given. "Please. There's no such thing as too much ice cream."

"Well, not for me, certainly, but you're human. Fragile." 

Gabriel scowled. "I don't know about fragile. I've been hunting since I was a kid."

"Oh, and how long ago was that? Fifteen years? Maybe twenty? That's nothing compared to how long I've been around. I'm immortal. I'm as old as Time itself. I remember the first humans, and I saw them age and die, and that was barely the blink of an eye to me. Your lifetime is just a snap of the fingers. You can spend every day of it hunting, you can battle monsters nearly as fearsome as me and you can come out on top and to me you'll still be fragile. Breakable."

It was suddenly harder to breathe. The air was thick between them, and Gabriel found himself wishing they weren't in the ice cream place any more, but somewhere with less people. And maybe more beds.

And, of course, the Trickster once again seemed able to read his mind. He offered Gabe a smile that didn't seem to have any real happiness behind it, and reached across the table to grasp his arm for a second time. 

A moment later the two of them were back in the motel room, alone. The Trickster had cleaned the place up a bit, too, probably just to show that he could. The sheets looked softer, cleaner, the lights dimmer and more romantic. Just small touches, but enough for Gabriel to notice that things were different.

"Any special requests? Any reason why you wanted to be back here so badly that I could sense it?"

Gabriel swallowed, still short of breath and nervous in the best possible way.

"You have to know why I wanted to be back here. Don't tell me you can only read some of my mind."

"Oh no. I can read everything. Every thought and fear you've ever had. I can do it to anyone. How do you think my tricks are so good? I can tell exactly what would scare a person the most and I can make them suffer through it, I know the exact punishment that would be the most fitting for them. And when it comes to you? I can see what you desire more than anything, what you most want me to give you. But perhaps it would be more fun if I made you tell me."

Gabriel gritted his teeth, ducking his head, looking away from those magnetic eyes. He couldn't. He couldn't admit to this.

"I'm waiting, Gabriel."

"I want you to fuck me," Gabriel choked out.

The Trickster laughed. "Oh really? Seems like a bit of a... go to answer, if I could be so presumptuous. The thing that you say when you don't want to admit to what you really want. Yes, I could fuck you so hard that you'd never forget it for the rest of your short little life, but if you wanted me to, I could give you something else. You only have to ask."

Gabriel's breathing sped up, and he felt trapped, even though the door was right next to him and he felt sure that if he turned to leave, the Trickster wouldn't try to stop him. No, worse than that, he felt trapped in his own thoughts, in vague fantasies of things he'd always wanted to do and to have done to him but had never asked for before. And he was trapped because he knew he couldn't lie about them, but he also knew he could never admit to them.

"Offer ends in three... two... one..."

"I want you to tie me up," Gabriel blurted.

"Tie you up?" The Trickster jumped to attention, clearly listening now, but also waiting for more.

"Yeah, tie me to the bed, spread me out for you, make sure I can't move at all. Or see. I want you to blindfold me, I want to be there, shivering, waiting for you with no idea what's coming. I want you to mark me up, leave bruises all over my body with your teeth wherever you move, and I want you to fuck me as hard as you possibly can, use all that power you were talking about earlier, and don't hold back at all."

The Trickster looked taken aback, like he hadn't expected Gabriel to actually admit anything. "You want all those things? Tonight?"

"No, I thought we could make an appointment for next month," Gabriel snarked. "Yes, all of them, tonight. Please."

"Well, in that case..." The Trickster stepped forward, a predatory look in his eyes and a twisted grin on his face, and he cupped Gabriel's face in both of his. "Should I kiss you?"

Gabriel hadn't expected to be asked. After all the things he'd just asked the Trickster to do to him, now he was asking permission for a kiss? It seemed like nothing in comparison. Surprised, all he could do was offer up a tiny nod of his head.

The Trickster leaned forward and touched his lips to Gabriel's, and it was so gentle, just the barest pressure of his lips and tongue for a few seconds before he pulled away again, but it left Gabriel weak kneed and wide eyed, leaning forward without telling his muscles to do so, trying to get those impossibly soft lips back on his own for a little longer.

The Trickster held up a hand, putting a finger to Gabriel's lips and holding him back. "Not yet. You'll get what you asked for, but this goes at my pace."

Gabriel nodded, begging for more with his eyes.

"Do you have a safeword?"

"A-" Another question Gabriel hadn't been expecting.

"Yes, it's what you say when you want things to stop. Come on. I don't wanna hurt you, and you know that I can. Just want you to have the time of your life," he said with an exaggerated wink.

"Yeah, I know what it is," Gabe grumbled. "Mine's lollipop."

"Excellent. Now. Onto business. I can look like whatever you want me to look like. You want me to be Scarlett Johansson? You want the face of Ryan Reynolds and the body of Chris Evans? You have a thing for toned thighs or tiny waists or really thick cocks? I can make that happen. Anything you want. This is your night to do whatever you want, with whoever you want. Describe your perfect person."

Gabriel's mind raced. There were so many possibilities here, so many people he'd fantasized about during lonely nights in motels or the backseat of the Continental. And now he could have any of them. The biggest problem with this scenario was that he was being asked to pick just one.

But then he remembered the way his heart had fluttered when he'd caught sight of the janitor for the first time...

"You. I don't want you to look like anything, or pretend to be something you're not. I just want you, the way you are, right now."

The Trickster smiled, and this smile looked more genuine than any Gabriel had seen yet.

"Excellent. I hope you'll be happy with what 'just me' entails."

The Trickster snapped his fingers, and both of them were naked. He stepped back to allow Gabriel to take him in, his arms out to display himself in his full naked glory, a prideful smile on his face that Gabriel supposed he would allow himself too if he'd been allowed to choose his own appearance. And yes, the guy had certainly chosen well - golden skin molding to beautifully toned muscles on his arms and chest and stomach, a light trail of somehow sun-bleached hair making its way down from his belly button to a perfectly proportioned cock with a slight curve to it and a pink tinge to the head, resting against the Trickster's stomach, a tiny bead of precome already forming at the top, possibly due to the fact that he was eyeing Gabriel back just as hungrily.

Gabriel had never exactly been happy with his body, especially since he'd spent the whole of freshman year of college sitting in the back of an art studio, a multicolored paintbrush in one hand and a candy bar in the other, not moving for hours at a time except to take a trip to the vending machine next door. And he expected to feel that ten times over while in the presence of somebody as honestly godlike as the Trickster was. And yet somehow, the guy had a way of looking at him that made him feel like they might even be on a level.

They spend a few, long moment just looking at each other, learning everything they could just by sight alone, and for a moment Gabriel regretted asking for the blindfold, purely because he just wanted to stare at the Trickster for as long as possible. But then the guy raised a hand and didn't even touch him, just held it aloft, and Gabriel felt the air get knocked out of him as he was thrown back onto the bed, leaving him gasping and even harder than he had been already. "Fuck," he cursed. "I didn't know you could-"

"You said powers. I'm using them."

Gabriel nodded enthusiastically, because he'd been commenting but definitely not complaining. He lay back and just enjoyed the sight for the last few minutes he was going to get, watching as the Trickster posed in front of the bed, pretending to contemplate what kind of restraints to use on Gabriel for far too long, clearly just showing off his body, and Gabriel didn't mind in the slightest. 

Finally, the Trickster snapped his fingers, and a long string of royal blue ribbons appeared. He stepped forwards, gripping one of Gabriel's ankles tightly but surprisingly gently, tying it to the closest bedpost with the first of the ribbons, the color contrasting beautifully with Gabriel's pale skin and the white of the sheets. He repeated the action with the other ankle and then with both of Gabriel's wrists, held high above his head to reach the upper two bedposts, and then slipped the final ribbon over his eyes. Before cutting off Gabriel's sight completely, he bent down to whisper against Gabriel's lips, "Don't worry, feeling me will be  _ so _ much better than seeing me."

And then Gabriel's sight was gone. He blew out a breath and he was sure he could still feel the Trickster's presence, so close to him, but he couldn't be certain - and then, that soft press of lips was repeated, just the tiniest bit of contact between the two of them for a few more seconds before pulling away again.

This time, the Trickster didn't stop there. He followed up the kiss to Gabriel's lips with a series of kisses all down his body, peppering them over his chest and his stomach, getting closer and closer to Gabriel's cock, which longed for the same treatment.

It was intoxicating, lying there with no idea when the light, soft touches were going to become something more. The Trickster's lips were all over his body, barely skimming his skin, and in fact half the time Gabe thought that he was feeling the Trickster's breath rather than actual touches. He was panting, his hips trying their best to lift off the bed, but his body stretched too tight against the restraints, stopping him from moving.

"Oh, you're so impatient. You want me so much right now, don't you? It's a gift, honestly. Having someone so needy, right here underneath me."

Gabriel groaned and squirmed away from the Trickster's gaze, which he was sure was on him, not wanting to be seen as weak. He didn't need this, he'd be just fine if the Trickster walked out the door right now, he'd be...

He wouldn't be fine at all. He did need this. He could admit that, at least to himself. At least inside his head.

"See, that's what I was waiting for!" The Trickster laughed, and Gabriel cursed himself, remembering the guy could read minds. "I should make you say it out loud, I really should. It'd be beautiful to hear those words come out of your pretty pink lips. But I won't. You've already done so well, and I'll give you want you want now."

"Yes... please..." Gabriel wanted to moan a name, but he had no idea what name to use. 'Trickster' hardly seemed appropriate. "Sir, please," he finally settled on.

"Good decision, Gabriel," the Trickster purred, before sinking his teeth into Gabriel's neck, sucking hard.

"Fuck!" he hissed, his entire body leaping off the bed, held back only by the ribbons tying him down. The next bite came unexpectedly to his thigh, and the next one came a little softer on his nipple, the Trickster twisting is between his teeth and leaving it red and raw. The Trickster kept a hand on Gabriel at all times, holding his arm or skimming down his sides, so that Gabriel knew for sure he was still hovering over him - but apart from that, Gabriel had absolutely no idea where the next bite would come, or when the bites would be interrupted, replaced instead by the scraping of sharp nails down his stomach, or by a growl in his ear of, " _ Mine." _

Gabriel was a mess by the time the Trickster announced, "Now that you're all marked up with bruises I'm sure you'll appreciate later, I think it's time for me to get you ready for my cock."

"You could just snap your fingers," Gabriel suggested, getting desperate and wanting to just get on with the fucking without going through all of the prep.

"Yes, I could, but I think my fingers would be put to much better use inside you, don't you?"

A tear squeezed its way out of Gabriel's eyes and ran down his cheek. His cock hadn't even got the slightest amount of friction yet, the Trickster being so careful to avoid touching it, but Gabriel could feel it aching and throbbing, precome dripping down into a puddle on his stomach. 

He felt a cool, slick finger press against his entrance, teasing just the edge of his hole, and he knew that if he'd been unbound he could have slid down onto it in one swift motion - he'd certainly practiced it on himself enough times. But with the ties keeping him in place, it was completely impossible, and all he could do was wait. 

But, oh, it was worth the wait, and he'd have waited again ten times over for the shuddering bliss that came when the Trickster pushed one finger all the way inside Gabriel, feeling around inside him, exploring.

One finger became two, and then three, and Gabriel got louder and less coherent with each new finger added, straining against his restraints trying to get more pressure or different angles, but completely powerless, forced to wait for whatever the Trickster wanted to give him, even when it seemed like what he wanted was to get Gabriel to scream just from the lightest flutter of a finger inside of him.

The Trickster's fingers twisting in him were almost enough, they were enough, and it was willpower along that stopped him from coming before he could get that beautiful cock inside of him. He could never remember enjoying just the sight of a cock as he had the first time he'd seen the Trickster naked, and he needed more of it, so he sucked hard on his own lip and waited, feeling the moment that the Trickster's fingers slipped out, leaving Gabriel wide open with lube dripping from his hole onto the sheets where he was unable to close his legs.

"Are you ready?" the Trickster asked, and Gabriel could only moan loudly in response, actual words seeming like an impossible goal right now, and then  _ holy shit _ that cock was inside of him, stretching him out even more, somehow managing to feel better and better with every inch it pushed further in...

Gabriel felt the Trickster's cock nudge against his prostate, and that was that, he was done. His whole body tensed and his cock jerked, spraying white strings over both of their stomachs as he let out a final, desperate moan.

He floated in half-consciousness as he felt the Trickster slam into him a couple dozen more times and gripped his side hard enough to leave bruises, wishing that he could appreciate the moment a little more, since it was a guarantee that he'd never get to feel it again. It only took a couple of minutes before Gabriel felt the Trickster's thrusts falter, and there was another hot warmth pooling inside of Gabriel.

The Trickster crawled up the bed and carefully untied the blindfold from Gabriel's eyes, and the first thing Gabriel saw was soft hazel flecked with green staring at him, soft and caring and not at all dangerous. The lights were out and the room was lit only by the soft glow of the moon through the open window, which made it easier to adjust to being able to see again. The Trickster snapped his fingers wordlessly, cleaning up the other bindings and the sticky mess between the two of them, and then wrapped a strong arm around Gabriel, pulling him close and letting him close his eyes and grab a few well deserved hours of sleep. 

~~~~

Gabriel hadn't regretted it. Not right away, at least. The Trickster was gone by the time he woke in the morning, and when Castiel had knocked on his door a while later insisting that they had to move on as quickly as possible, he hadn't noticed that the lights or the sheets were different. Gabriel hadn't mentioned it to him as they drove on to whatever the next hunt had been, and it had just become one of those strange quirks of Gabriel's life that he didn't tend to mention to people. Used to be best friends with an archangel. Hunts monsters for a living. Slept with one of them once. No big deal.

And then they'd arrived at the Mystery Spot.

It was over a year and many deaths later, one of which had been Gabriel's own. Cas only had a few months to live, though they were both trying not to mention that, focusing instead on driving around the country in the Continental, the same way they always had, chasing leads. They'd caught wind of a new case, nothing to do with that one that had happened in the university all those months ago, and they'd arrived late at night. They’d decided to check into a motel for the night before heading off to do some work early in the morning, setting alarms and then crashing down side by side on a shared double bed. They did that now. Castiel had stopped being able to sleep on his own.

Gabriel usually had trouble getting to sleep, especially now that he knew every sleeping moment was a waste of time he could be spending awake with Castiel, but that night he'd passed out as soon as his head hit the pillows, and the next thing he knew--

_ "Heat of the moment!" _

Gabriel jerked up in bed, rudely awakened, and looked over to Castiel, who was staring at Gabe’s expression of utter horror and clutching his sides laughing.

"Really? Asia?" Gabriel groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

"You love this song, Gabe. I've heard you singing it."

"Not at seven thirty in the morning," Gabriel protested, hiding under a pillow. 

"What? Sorry, couldn't hear you," Castiel quipped, getting up from his side of the bed and skipping into the bathroom to take a shower.

Despite the early awakening, they were both in good moods as they made their way to a nearby diner for breakfast. Cas pointed towards the specials board.

"Hey, Thursday, pig in a poke!"

"I don't even know what that is," Gabriel shrugged, feeling a little annoyed by that fact. It was food. He was supposed to know.

"I'll take the special, side of bacon, and a coffee," Castiel requested, ignoring Gabe.

"Uh, make that two coffees, and a short stack," Gabriel chimed in, and the two of them sat down to wait for their food. They ate, although Gabriel became none the wiser as to what a pig in a poke actually was, but pleased that Castiel seemed to be enjoying it, and then they made their way to the Mystery Spot on the outskirts of town where the body had been found.

They'd barely made their way inside when the owner turned a gun on Castiel, yelling, "Don't move!"

Gabriel stepped forward, used to dealing with this kind of situation. "Hey, hey, it's alright, we're just-"

_ Bang. _

Castiel collapsed to the floor before Gabriel even had a chance to turn around. 

Gabriel followed him, dropping his flashlight and getting to his knees, grabbing at Cas' face with his hands, leaning down to rest their forehead together, desperate to feel something, any kind of movement from his brother who always made it out of these situations unharmed, no matter how unlikely it seemed...

The only thing Gabe could think was  _ Not now. Not yet. I'm trying to prepare myself, I know it's going to happen soon, but not yet. I need the rest of the time with him. _

~~~~

A hundred Thursdays.

A hundred fucking Thursdays and Gabriel was still stuck here. The same song, the same time, the same motel room, the same diner. 

He found himself regretting ever going away to Stanford, because even if all this would have happened anyway, at least then he'd have had a few extra years of memories with Castiel. He wondered if he might have been able to avoid this, any of this. If he'd just done things a tiny bit differently, maybe he wouldn't have to live through this hell now.

And the worst part was that Cas didn't remember a damn thing. Gabriel was exhausted, because he'd spent every single Thursday trying to explain to Castiel what was going on, and every time he managed to convince him, it only led to another even more inventive death, and Gabriel had to watch as his brother left him time and time again. Almost didn't seem worth trying to tell Cas what was going on. And yet he still tried, just because every day, he hoped that Castiel might somehow have a new idea for how they could fix this.

Today was Thursday number a hundred and some fucking ridiculous number, and Castiel, as usual, was sat opposite him in flat out disbelief.

"Gabriel Novak wears makeup," they said in unison, Gabriel proving to Cas that he could predict in advance what he was going to say.

The first time Castiel had said it, Gabriel had been offended that Castiel considered this an insult. He looked great in eyeliner and had done many a smoky eye in his Stanford days.

"Gabriel Novak cries his way through sex."

This one was worse. Gabriel knew that Cas was just making stuff up to mess with his head, but still, somehow it felt like Cas knew that the first time Gabriel and Alfie had spent the night together...

"Gabriel Novak keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes he- alright, alright, alright."

Gabriel gave Cas a moment to figure it out, glancing round the diner as he did so. It was the same every day, of course. Same cashier pocketing money from the register when he thought nobody was looking. Same judge scrolling through pictures of himself in his furry bunny outfit. Same guy planning the robbery he was going to commit as soon as he finished his coffee. Same-

_ Not _ same.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, catching the change in Gabriel's face.

Gabe shook his head, pointing to a man at the counter. "Guy has strawberry syrup for the past hundred Thursdays, and all of a sudden, he's having maple?"

The man got up and made his way out of the diner, and Gabriel stood up from his chair, barely checking to make sure that Castiel was following before he ran after the pancake man. He caught up to him at the end of the road, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him into the nearest fence. 

"I know what you are," Gabriel announced, triumphant.

"Oh my God, please don't kill me," the man squeaked, but Gabriel had dealt with Tricksters - or at the very least, one Trickster - for long enough to know that they were good actors.

"Gabriel?" Cas looked concerned, but Gabe just nudged his side and handed a wooden stake to him behind his back, and Cas' mouth tightened in sudden understanding. 

"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it."

"What?" The man - the Trickster - still looked confused.

"It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts - your kind loves that, don't they?"

The pancake man raised an eyebrow, and his face morphed into that of the same Trickster that he'd met - done far more than meet with - all those months ago.

Gabriel let out a gasp that was one tiny burst of willpower away from a scream of terror.

How? How, after the time they'd spent together, after the Trickster had promised to keep Gabriel safe and to protect him and not to hurt him, could he then turn around and mess with them like this?

But, Gabriel supposed, the Trickster had made no such promises towards Castiel.

Gabriel's voice shook as he challenged, "You think this is funny? Killing Castiel over and over again?"

The Trickster shook his head. "Not funny. I'm trying to help you, Gabriel. It's practice. You'll have to deal with this for real soon enough. Maybe now you'll be better prepared."

Gabriel couldn't breathe. He didn't know how many Tricksters there were in the world - the lore had said rare, but that could easily mean a couple of hundred - and what were the chances that the Trickster messing with them right now was the same one that Gabriel had encountered before? This couldn't be coincidence, it couldn't, this particular Trickster had to be targeting the two of them, but he didn't know why. And he hated not knowing; hated standing there, shaking, completely disoriented, his face pale and his chest tight.

He looked the Trickster in the eye and remembered how beautiful a sight those eyes had been when they’d been the first thing he saw after his blindfold was removed. And as much as he wanted to, Gabriel couldn't hate him. Despite all the pain he'd caused, he just couldn't.

"How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother, no matter what." 

"Oh yeah? I kill you, this all ends now." But Gabriel had absolutely no intention of doing that. He couldn't possibly. He'd seen another side to this guy, a side that had cared for him and respected him and given him what he wanted, and now he wanted to find that side again.

"Tomorrow, you'll wake up, and it'll be Friday. I swear."

"You're lying," Gabriel tried to protest, though it was only because he knew that Castiel expected him to say it, not because he really believed it.

The Trickster shrugged. "If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes. At the diner."

"No. Easier just to kill you," Cas insisted, pulling his wooden stake out of the waistband of his jeans, and Gabriel was struck with the irony of the situation. He was the one who'd lived through a hundred Thursdays watching his brother die, while Castiel remembered nothing, and yet here Cas was about to commit the murder, while Gabriel was going to stop it.

"Cas, no. Please."

Castiel turned to stare at him with a look of disbelief, and that was all the time Gabriel needed. He turned to lock eyes with the Trickster and made shooing motions, mouthing,  _ "Go." _

By the time Cas had finished retrieving his stake, the Trickster was gone.

Cas rounded on Gabriel, and there was fear and hurt blazing in his eyes. "You did that. You let him go. What are you, in league with him? What's your game here? How do I know that any of this 'hundred Thursdays' crap is true?"

He was getting more and more animated, waving the stake around, stepping towards Gabriel, and all of a sudden he lost his balance, his foot slipping out from underneath him, and he fell forwards, impaling himself on his own wooden stake.

_ "Heat of the moment!" _

Gabriel woke, and it was Thursday again. Of course. Because who the fuck trusts a Trickster, even if they had shared those kinds of memories together? Of all the people Gabriel could have chosen to put his belief in... yeah, the Trickster certainly hadn't been a good choice. Not that any of his choices ever were.

A final idea came to him, one more thing he could do, one last ditch attempt that he could make before he fucking gave up and tried to get himself killed along with Cas one of these days...

He prayed to the Archangel Samuel.

It wasn't something he did often, not anymore, not since Sam had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to answer any of Gabriel's prayers or protect him from any of the bad things happening to him. But right now he was desperate. He'd watched Castiel die over a hundred times, a hundred times too many, and there seemed to be no way of stopping it. So that morning, before they went to the diner, while Cas was in the shower, Gabriel closed his eyes and he prayed.

_ Archangel Samuel, can you hear me? _

No answer. Of course there was no answer. There hadn't been an answer for amost three years.

_ Of course you can't. I'm a dumbass for even asking these days. But it's how I always start my prayers, and old habits die hard, I guess. So. I'm praying to you, because the Trickster, the same one who I thought might not be so bad, he's been messing with Cas. Nobody gets to fucking mess with Cas, that's my job, you know it is. And if anyone else decides they can mess with him? Then I'm the one who saves him and fucks them over instead. But that's not working with the Trickster, he's not dying when he should, he's got some kind of secret that I can't figure out. And I don't give a fuck what his secret is. I just want my brother.  _

He let out a shaky breath and tried to mop up the tears sliding down his face.

_ Yeah, I said it. I want Cas, I need him. And I know this is probably just the Trickster's fun idea of a joke. You know, kid tries to get away from his older brother for years, now see what happens when he's the one who has to watch his brother leave, permanently, time and time again. But Sam, you're not like that. You'd never put me through it. And if you do this for me? Then I will never, ever ask you for anything again. _

_ Please. Let me have my last few months with Cas in peace. _

_ Amen. _

He finished just as Cas emerged from the bathroom, rubbing a towel through his hair and asking, "Breakfast?"

Gabriel turned away, trying to hide his face, but nodded. "Yeah. Of course."

They left the motel, turning towards their usual diner (not that Cas knew it was their usual) but before they could even make it, there was a crash, a gunshot, Castiel falling to the ground with blood seeping from his chest, and then--

Gabriel woke with a start to the cries of the radio, seven thirty, Friday.

_ "Gotta get back in time!" _

~~~~

The visions stopped. Gabriel passed out, and when he came round, he was in a hotel bed. It was far fancier than anything he was used to sleeping in - there were red velvet curtains around the ornate wooden bedframe and a soft fluffy carpet that Gabriel could sink his feet into.

He turned his head and saw Crowley, laid out on the bed taking up three quarters of the space, his eyes closed and a contented smile on his face. 

Gabriel tried not to analyse too hard that he seemed to have a thing for anyone and anything that could literally snap him in half without breaking any kind of a sweat. First Sam. Then the Trickster. And now Crowley. 

Alfie could never have done that, he reminded himself. Alfie was tiny. And so sweet that even that one time where Gabriel had asked him to prick his skin for a blood test, he hadn't been able to do it, because he was scared that that tiny needlemark would hurt Gabriel. He'd been the exact opposite.

And then Alfie had got hurt himself. Worse than hurt.

At least this way was better, because Gabriel was only putting himself in danger.

Crowley stretched, his whole body rippling as he tilted his head up to the light, groaning blissfully. He brought a hand to rub at the spot on his arm that Gabriel had been sucking from. "Well, that felt wonderful. Tickled me right where my bathing suit goes."

"Oh, I can do that too," Gabriel said with a raised eyebrow, figuring he should offer Crowley something in return, trying not to let on about the dreams or hallucinations or whatever had just happened to him.

"Thanks for the offer, Starling, I'll take you up on it some other time." Crowley brushed him off, turning away.

Gabriel frowned, and was suddenly hit with a burst of electricity surging through him for no reason. It felt powerful, too powerful, in a way that he couldn't control, and he had to get out of bed and start walking around so that it didn't overwhelm him. He had to do something with it, more than just this. He wanted to run and fight and  _ kill. _

He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and it might have been his imagination, but he thought his eyes looked darker somehow. He told himself it was just the light.

On his third circuit around the room, Crowley turned to look at him and smirked. "On second thoughts? I think you might have some energy you need to get rid of."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering - I totally tried to base Sam's Trickster characterization off of Soulless Sam, so I hope that turned out alright!


	4. the rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More deancas bonding oh my god it's 12.30am do I have to write a summary
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: idk smiting? this one is honestly fairly tame I swear

**** Castiel sat at the end of a pier, dipping his fishing pole in and out of the water, the physical effort of it rhythmic and calming. He felt peaceful somehow, floaty, as if he wasn't right on the edge of letting Lucifer out of Hell while being well aware that he was to blame for it. These were still facts he knew, yes, but they seemed unimportant. They didn't affect him in the same way that they usually did.

He heard a rushing noise from behind him that sounded less like water and more like wings, and he turned, his eyes falling on a green-eyed angel in a trench coat. As soon as Dean showed up, it seemed obvious to Cas that he would be there, even though he hadn't expected it.

"We need to talk," Dean stated, resting a single hand on Cas' shoulder.

Cas realized that he'd known what Dean was going to say before he'd said it. He realized something else, too. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"It's not safe here. We gotta get somewhere more private."

Cas frowned, the fishing rod disappearing from his hand now that it was no longer needed as he turned to look Dean in the eyes. "Where could possibly be more private than my mind?"

Dean held the gaze. "You'd be surprised. People could be listening."

A tense pause, and then- "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean dug into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a piece of paper, a list of directions in cramped handwriting inked onto it, and handed it to Cas. "Meet me here. Go now."

Castiel took the paper and studied it for a moment. He didn't have to look back up again to know that Dean had vanished.

~~~~

Gabriel staying out all night and then sneaking back into his and Castiel's shared motel room at six o'clock in the morning was hardly a rare occurrence. It had started a couple years before Gabriel had left for Stanford, and back then, he'd tried to keep it a secret, knowing that Castiel wouldn't approve. Castiel had actually figured it out pretty quickly, and while he worried about his brother, at the same time, he knew there was basically nothing he could do to stop him. So long as Gabriel was awake enough to stay alert on hunts, Castiel didn't complain.

He complained in his head, but that was different. That was just the stupid jealousy that after everything he'd done for Gabriel and everything the two of them had been through together, Gabe would still turn around and pick some random stranger from a bar over Cas. Stupid jealousy aside, he didn't complain aloud, because he knew there was just no reasoning with Gabriel.

And yet, Castiel was convinced that right now, there was something not quite right going on.

He woke up from his dream with the paper still clutched in his hand. There was an address written on it - not one he recognized, and not one that was anywhere near here. He sat up in bed, fumbling for the light switch because it was still dark outside, blinking rapidly and trying to get used to the light.

The bed beside him was empty.

He ran a hand along the crisp white sheets, but they'd barely been disturbed at all, so Castiel already knew that they would be cold. His whole life, Gabriel had never been one for making beds, and it had become Castiel's job to check before leaving every motel room that the bedsheets weren't a complete disaster. Therefore, if Gabriel's bed was made right now, it meant only one thing - he hadn’t slept there.

Castiel stared at the piece of paper in his hand, then at Gabriel's bed. Then at the paper. Then back to the bed.

Dean had made it very clear that this was urgent, and he had half a mind to run off, right now, without Gabriel. It would certainly serve Gabriel right for spending all his time having random sex instead of helping out his brother. But then again, Dean had looked worried, and Cas wanted all the backup he could get. And there was no way Gabriel could have seen this coming, so Cas supposed that it wasn't his fault.

He got up, because even though it was some unholy hour of the morning he had no chance of getting back to sleep, and made his way to a vending machine in the hall, buying three cans of energy drink. When he turned back around, Castiel's eyes fell on a short man creeping towards his motel room, with straggly light brown hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in days, a pale face and bloodshot eyes.

It looked like some poor imitation of Gabriel.

It couldn't actually be Gabriel, of course, because even on the nights that Gabriel completely wrecked himself and was left with a hangover that felt like being torn apart by hellhounds, he still managed a swing to his step and a cheeky wink at Castiel when he got in in the morning. Today, though, he hadn't even noticed him.

"Gabriel?" Cas called out, and the man jumped about a foot in the ear, stumbling backwards and looking horrified as he turned to face Cas.

"Oh. It's you," Gabe said shakily after a moment, holding tight to the door handle to support himself.

Castiel approached slowly, not wanting to startle Gabriel for a second time. "Are you alright there? Wild night? Drink too much?"

"You could say that," Gabriel shrugged, doing his best not to look at Cas.

As he got closer and closer, though, Castiel started to notice something strange. It wasn't something he could necessarily pinpoint. On the surface, Gabriel looked like he'd had a completely normal sleepless night followed by hangover, something which Castiel himself had plenty of experience with too. And yet at the same time  _ something _ was different, something nobody else would have noticed but which Castiel had been trained to recognize - something supernatural.

He opened his mouth, just about to call Gabriel out on somehow not actually being Gabriel, wishing that he hadn't been so stupid as to leave the room without any kind of protection, not even the tiny handgun that was almost always tucked into a waistband somewhere.

His instinct was to run, or to attack, but he stopped himself from doing either of those things.

He remembered being raised from Hell, and coming back to find that Gabriel was shacked up with someone else and didn't trust that Castiel was really back. He remembered how much that had hurt, considering that he'd just spent forty fucking years in Hell and could probably have used some support and comfort at that point rather than a knife in his arm.

He didn't want to be the kind of person who was always suspicious about everything. He knew that it was a hunter's instinct to always look for the worst in every situation, and to pick up on the tiniest clues that he couldn't quite put into words - and yes, right now, he looked at Gabriel and he couldn't shake the prickles he felt on the back of his neck, the wisps of thoughts clouding the back of his mind that there was something not quite right going on.

But he didn't have to voice those fears. He could be better than that, more trusting, if he wanted to. Didn't have to be like their father, always locking himself up in a room on his own because he was so paranoid about other people that he could barely stand to be around them.

So he stared at Gabriel, and instead of seeing the vague feeling of  _ wrong _ he just saw  _ small _ and  _ tired _ and  _ needs taking care of _ , and he wrapped an arm around his waist and half-carried him into the shower, promising that the hot water would do him some good, and that he could sleep in the back seat of the Continental while the two of them made the drive to wherever Dean was expecting them.

~~~~

"Gabriel. Gabriel, wake up!"

"Mrrrgggh. No. Don' want any more," Gabriel mumbled, shrugging off Castiel's arm and burying his face in the pillow they'd stolen from the motel.

Castiel ran his fingers through Gabe's hair, trying to soothe him and let him wake slowly. Waking up had never been Gabriel's strong point, but they'd already driven for a good five hours to get to the address Dean had left, so Cas supposed that it wouldn't make a huge difference if the tiny blanket creature of a hunter took a few extra minutes to wake.

"Said no, Crowley!" Gabriel insisted, trying to wriggle away from Castiel's touch, but only succeeding in bumping his head against the car door.

Castiel frowned, but he supposed he had no business prying into the contents of Gabriel's dreams. He was sure there were far worse things in his own. "Shh. I'm not Crowley. It's me. Castiel."

Gabriel stilled almost immediately, his eyes opening. "Cas?" he breathed in a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. It's me. We both have to go inside and meet Dean, he's expecting us."

Gabriel stretched out a hand to squeeze Castiel's arm, seemingly trying to pull him inside the car with him, and Castiel couldn't help but let out a chuckle at how clingy Gabriel was when he was this sleepy. He would have loved to just climb inside and lie down on the seat with Gabriel, cuddling into him and getting a few more hours' sleep himself, but they had far more important business to deal with. And besides, the two of them hadn't both been able to fit on that seat together since Cas was in middle school.

"Alright. Let me grab us some guns and some flashlights, give you a moment to wake up," he finally insisted, and this time when he tried to pull his arm away, Gabriel let him go. And not five minutes later, the two of them were striding into the abandoned warehouse together, Gabriel standing tall and confident with a hunter's bravery, pretending that his brief slip-up when he'd first awakened had never happened.

The warehouse looked normal from the outside - a little creepy, sure, but a fully functional building otherwise. As soon as they stepped inside, however, they were greeted by piles and piles of rubble, entire walls that had been torn down and blasted to smithereens, their flashlights reflecting off of tiny shards of broken glass, both of them having to be careful not to breathe too deeply to avoid inhaling the dust that was still flying around in the air.

"Looks like a bomb went off in here." Gabriel sounded nervous.

"There was a fight here," Castiel concluded, because there was never an innocent reason for a destroyed building, and he could be objective on such matters when they didn't concern his younger brother. He flicked his flashlight around the far walls and ceiling of the room, and noticed a suspicious red symbol on the wall furthest from them.

They both hurried over, trying their best not to disturb the rubble, inspecting the sigil. Castiel wished he could be surprised by the fact that it was painted in blood.

"I've seen this before, Gabriel. It's used for banishing angels. Dean explained it to me before. Perhaps... perhaps he knew that I would someday need this information to help find him."

"So you think Dean was fighting angels?"

Cas glanced around the room. He didn't exactly see Dean anywhere. "I think angels were fighting him."

There was a scraping sound from close by, and Castiel glanced down, only to see a body he hadn't previously noticed due to the fact that the dust had stained its face, hair and clothes the exact same color as the rubble.

Gabriel had heard the noise too and came running over, already cocking his gun to defend them both, but Cas knew better. No matter the damage the body had clearly sustained, he would recognize that trench coat anywhere.

"Dean!" He hated the desperate relief that sounded in his voice.

The man groaned, still shifting stones off of himself.

"Ugh. Dean. I'm not Dean. It's me."

The man's voice was rough and raspy, as if he'd forgotten how to use it. Gabriel stowed his gun (even if this man wanted to be a threat, he didn't seem capable of it right now) and the two of them helped the guy to his feet.

"'Me'. Very helpful," Gabriel scoffed, and Cas punched him in the arm.

"My name's Jimmy. Jimmy Winchester. I'm from Pontiac, Illinois. About a year ago, I got possessed by an angel, and the next thing I remember is showing up here." 

~~~~

They took him to another motel. Castiel wondered idly to himself just how many motels he had stayed in during the course of his life. If he'd started keeping tally when he was a kid, would it be in the hundreds by now? The thousands?

He waited until Jimmy had scarfed down two of the three burgers they'd picked up on their way before speaking. Gabriel had had the second one; he looked like he needed the strength more than Cas himself did. After all, Cas still had one of his energy drinks left over from earlier. He could get by on that for a while.

Castiel spoke. "You said that about a year ago you got possessed by an angel. Maybe you should tell us that story. And then we can help you... fill in some of the blanks."

Jimmy nodded, but stayed silent for a while, seemingly not sure where to begin.

"Get on with it," Gabriel rolled his eyes, still bitchy despite the fact that he'd had food now. "We're hunters. We know Dean, we know that angels exist and that you were possessed by one. We're not gonna think that you're lying, or that you're crazy. Just tell us everything that you remember."

Jimmy let out a hollow laugh, but began to talk.

"I have a wife. Amelia. A daughter. Claire. We lived -  _ live _ together in our house. Amelia worked long days, so I would do the cooking. Before I cooked, I would pray for my family, that their days had gone well and that the evening meal would bring us closer together. One day, someone answered. Not God. An angel. He said his name was Dean. Seemed like an odd name for an angel, but for some reason, I trusted him. And then he told me that he had a divine purpose for me, that I needed to prove my faith to him. I was going to cook some vegetables, the water was boiling - he told me to stick my hand in it. Said that I wouldn't get hurt. You know. Most people who hear a voice in their head telling them to stick their hand in boiling water, they'd go see a psychiatrist. Not me. Didn't even cross my mind til later. I believed him. I did as he said. And he was right..."

~~~~

"What are we going to do?"

Gabriel shrugged, leaning against the wall outside the motel, and to him it was the most simple thing in the world to say, "We send him home. Dude's gonna have a fuckton of explaining to do to his family, but, at least he still  _ has _ a family. And a chance to fix things."

Castiel frowned. "You mean - just let him leave?"

"Why not? He's a normal guy. He never meant to get caught up in any of this crap. He can't help us any more than the guy who sold us the burgers could help us."

Cas leaned his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling a headache coming on. "But he's the closest thing we have to Dean. He probably has some kind of link to him, some way of getting in contact that we don't have. What if Dean talks to Jimmy again, and I'm- and we're not around, and Dean thinks we abandoned him? That we didn't even try to find him at the warehouse?"

"Then so what? He puts on his wings and flies to wherever we are so that we can help with the next seal. No harm done."

Castiel shook his head. His brother didn't understand. "Gabriel, I won't leave Dean. Not until I've done everything I can to find him."

"Cas, the guy's an angel. He's probably taken a hundred vessels and slept with a hundred humans and then just walked out on them like it was nothing. He doesn't feel things. Not human things."

Castiel's mouth hardened and he glared at Gabriel. Did Gabriel really think that Cas didn't worry about that every single day? That he didn't spent his whole life expecting that at any moment, as soon as he decided that Castiel had exhausted his own usefulness, Dean would walk away and decide that Castiel wasn't worth the bother anymore? Because no matter how often Dean had renounced his affiliation with Heaven, Castiel had yet to see any actual evidence of this, anything that suggested he would actually go against his father's orders.

All Castiel said was, "He hasn't done so yet. I'll be loyal until he gives me a reason not to be."

Gabriel snorted and shook his head in disbelief at his brothers naiveté, heading back towards the door. "Whatever. We'll do it your way. Let's go tell the dude to pray to Dean or whatever the hell it is you want him to-  _ shit _ ."

Gabriel slammed the motel room door shut again, looking furious. "He's vanished. Dude fucking walked out on us."

~~~~

They were back in the Continental. Gabriel had his feet up on the dashboard, and had been sighing nonstop for the past half an hour.

"Remind me why I'm doing this? I didn't even want to keep talking to the guy in the first place, and now I'm tracking him down halfway across the country?"

"Oh, yeah, like you've got so many better things to be doing."

"I do. Could be out having my own one night stand instead of tracking down yours."

"Dean isn't-"

Castiel stopped. This was the third time they'd had this conversation on this car journey alone.

"You promise not to mention Dean again until we arrive and I'll let you break my 'driver picks the music' rule."

~~~~

They'd been driving for another two hours, and usually Castiel loved being in the car, because it made him feel free, and yet today it felt confined, leaving him restless. Gabriel was singing along offensively loudly to the Ramones, one of those CDs left over from the time Gabe had spent driving the car while Cas hadn't been around.

He turned to Gabriel, who still had the map open on his lap, and shook his shoulder. "Hey, how much further do we have to go?"

"We ain't got no friends, our troubles never end," Gabriel yelled, ignoring Castiel, somehow making himself heard even though the music was turned up to maximum volume. 

Castiel frowned, trying again. "Because I'm worried. I have a bad feeling about all of this."

"Daddy's telling lies, baby's eating flies," Gabriel screamed even louder, headbanging to the music, his eyes screwed shut.

"This isn't as simple as Dean just letting Jimmy go. There's more to this."

"We're all making a fortune selling Daddy's dope!" Gabriel finished up the song, but Castiel still didn't think he was likely to listen to him.

~~~~

Demons.

Gabriel might have refused to have any kind of serious conversation in the car, but Castiel had gone for far longer than that before without his favorite sounding board, and it wasn't a problem for him to work through everything on his own in the car, even as his restless foot tapping grew faster and faster and it became harder and harder for him to breathe.

And by the time they arrived in front of Jimmy Winchester's house, Castiel may have been half-crazed with fear, but he definitely wasn't surprised to see the sentinel standing by on the garden path, his eyes black and his arms folded as he stared Castiel and Gabriel down, ready to attack.

Jimmy Winchester stumbled out of the house, standing on the front step and raising his arms to the heavens in desperation. 

"Dean, you son of a bitch! You promised me my family would be okay. Help me, please. You promised, Dean. Just help me."

The demon in front of the brothers turned, and he seemed thrown off guard, like he didn't know which direction to focus on first. The single moment of confusion was all Castiel needed, as he drew his knife and plunged it into the demon's heart, before running up the steps towards Jimmy, supporting him on his way back inside.

The house was a disaster zone. It was nowhere near as bad as the warehouse had been, but the destruction somehow stood out more when it was paired with the perfect, neat home the family had set up here. There was clearly designed to be not a speck of dust tainting anything from the lampshades to the antique clock in the corner. But worse than the destruction was the foul stench of sulfur, a ring of demons standing too-still all around the room, one of them in the middle - a woman with long blonde hair, one arm wrapped far too tight around a young child struggling to break free, the other hand holding a knife to the child’s throat.

As if all of that wasn't bad enough, the child was screaming, "Mom! Mom, no!"

Castiel didn't entirely know what he was doing. He'd heard vague mumblings coming from Gabriel's room, but he'd always tried his absolute best not to interfere. But he had to try to do something, so he closed his eyes against the chaos in the room, for a moment pretending he was calm, and for the first time in his life, he prayed.

_ Dean. If you're not going to listen to Jimmy, then for the love of your Father please listen to me. I need you. I thought that because you were an angel, you could protect yourself, and nothing bad would happen to you. It seems I was wrong. But if there is any way you can come back to Earth - to me - then please, do it. _

_ Amen. _

Jimmy Winchester launched himself forwards now that he was no longer being held back by Castiel, pushing through the ring of demons and advancing towards the two in the middle, crying out, "Amelia! Claire!" - but halfway there, he stopped. Clutched his heart as though in pain. 

And when he turned around, Castiel saw something familiar in his eyes, a sparkle of Grace that had been noticeable by its absence when they'd been talking to Jimmy in the motel.

Dean.

But Amelia's eyes were sparkling too, light reflecting off the bright black that obscured them, and at the same moment Jimmy stumbled, she raised the gun and pointed it straight at Dean - Jimmy - one of them, both of them, perhaps - but Castiel didn't worry. He'd been in her situation, he'd shot Dean and stabbed him and done everything he could possibly think of to kill him and Dean hadn't even faltered in his footsteps, so why would this be any different? 

And yet - Amelia's shot must have come a moment too soon, just before Dean had taken back possession, because whoever was in control of that vessel right now stumbled, clutching his chest, dropping to the floor and wheezing in pain.

Castiel had to force back a scream of anguish.

"Claire," came a voice which sounded half like Jimmy's and half like something entirely different, something unearthly and unnatural. "I can save you, I can save your mom, but I need your permission. I need to possess you like I did your dad. Just for a few minutes."

Claire opened her mouth, and if she'd looked terrified before, standing in the middle of the room while her mother held a knife to her throat, it was nothing compared to what she looked like now. She'd already lost one parent to this huge angelic war that she knew nothing about, and she was seconds away from losing another, and-

Castiel strode forward, kneeling and grabbing Dean or Jimmy or whoever it was by the shoulders, fixing him with a fierce glare. "She's a kid, Dean, she can't consent to angelic possession. Use me. Take me as your temporary vessel, do whatever you need to do to save the others. I'm saying Yes."

There was a brief pause during which Dean stared at him like he was completely insane, but then Dean reached up to grasp Cas' face, and a bright light emanated from Dean's mouth, gathering together and rushing towards Castiel, and even though it didn't seem like it would be enough, it filled him up from head to toe, surrounding every part of him with a soft glow that made him feel like the last hot embers of a fire on the verge of burning out.

Castiel stood, but he didn't remember making the decision to stand. In fact, he wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from standing. He felt like a passenger in his own body, completely conscious and aware of everything that was going on, but with no actual power to affect the proceedings. He felt Dean use his body to grasp Amelia by the neck and exorcise the demon out of her with nothing more than a burst of raw power which seemed like it left second degree burns on Cas’ insides, and he felt Dean send several more demons flying through the windows, leaving a slew of useless bodies on the ground which were there for mere seconds before Dean vaporized them. And Cas was there through it all, his soul clinging on for dear life, trying its very best not to be annihilated by the sheer amount of energy and fire coursing through him.

And then it was over. The fire died back down into embers, though still they thrummed, waiting to catch the spark once more and ignite again. Cas' soul relaxed back into the body it now shared, and although it felt battered from its time being thrown around inside a fireball, it also felt revived, somehow.

Claire looked, terrified, up at Dean. "What happened?" she squeaked. "Did you... did I do that?"

Dean shook his head. "I didn't possess you. You'd have felt it if I had. Your mom is safe, so are you, and you didn't kill anyone."

He turned to address Amelia, too, who was still shaking where she stood, but whose eyes had returned to their normal blue instead of black. "You two keep each other safe. I'll shield this house, make sure nobody else can come for you, I'll do whatever I can. But in the end? Can't make any promises."

Cas heard his own voice say the words, but they were Dean's words. He tried to make sounds of his own, but he struggled, and it felt like there was an invisible wall in his mouth stopping him from getting anything out. 

And then suddenly, it disappeared, and though Cas could still feel Dean's presence inside of him just as strongly, at the same time he found that he was able to make decisions, to move and speak and act as he normally did.

"What about Jimmy? Is he going to be okay?"

A small tug on his soul as Dean regained control. "I can heal the wound, yeah, but it'll take time. He needs to rest."

Dean scooped up Jimmy's body and carried it out to the Continental, Castiel just along for the ride, somehow very aware that if he'd been alone he would never have been able to lift that kind of weight so easily. It made him even more conscious of Dean's presence inside of him.

Once they got inside the driver's seat, Dean gave control back to Castiel without having to be prompted, as though he knew that Castiel was always the one who drove, no matter the circumstances. Hell, Castiel had driven this car alone once, while Gabriel was off at Stanford, with a simultaneous concussion, black eye and a broken ankle from a vampire fight, and he'd still made it back and ensured that (in decreasing order of priority) the car, everyone else on the road, and himself were all safe. Compared to that, driving while being possessed by an angel was nothing.

They checked into a motel, Gabriel staying silent the whole time, seeming terrified of talking to his brother while he was possessed, and Gabriel scurried off to his own room as quickly as he could.

Castiel and Dean headed to their room too and laid Jimmy out on one of the beds, Dean taking control for long enough to brush his fingers over Jimmy's wounds and whisper a strange kind of chant that Castiel couldn't understand even as it were his lips that were making it. Then Dean stood, brushing himself off. "We gotta leave him to recover for a bit. There anywhere you want to go?"

Castiel shrugged. "Nowhere in particular. But going for a drive could be relaxing."

So they climbed back into the Continental and drove towards where the roads were quiet and there were more trees than anything else, and even though to an outsider it would have looked like Castiel was going for a solo drive to clear his head, the way he had so many times in the past, in actual fact Dean was keeping Cas company with a constant snarky commentary inside his head. Several times, Cas had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud, and even though he had this whole extra multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent inside of him weighing him down, he felt light and free in a way that he really hadn't since he'd first sold his soul and realized that he only had a year to live.

Castiel started to tire, and he wouldn't trust Dean with driving a tricycle let alone his Baby, so the two of them pulled over in a quiet clearing, shielded by soft fir trees, almost invisible to any other cars that would happen to go by.

"Why do I feel like I need to sleep?" Castiel asked, thinking the thoughts inside his mind, knowing instinctively that Dean would be able to hear them. "I thought that angels didn't need to. I never saw Jimmy sleep, when you were possessing him."

Dean chuckled, and it felt very strange for Cas to hear someone chuckle inside his head. "As long as I have control, you won't need to sleep, ever. You won't be doing anything that'd make you need sleep. But if I let you, say, take over and drive two hundred miles, then you're gonna get tired, Cas, and that's a fact."

"I see. I suppose you never let Jimmy take control."

"No, I did not. But then again, he never asked for it. Never wanted to be an active part of things, just kinda let himself fade. Not like you. But if you're tired, then by all means, sleep. Plenty of room in the back. Seem to recall you even have blankets."

It was true. Castiel had two blankets in the trunk, one for him and one for Gabriel, and today he allowed himself the luxury of grabbing both. He laid one out on the back seat and curled up on top of it, draping the other over himself, closing his eyes and trying to settle down.

But he was very much aware of Dean right there with him. Dean who was wide awake, even if he wasn't in control, and wouldn't fall asleep at all. Dean, whose Grace was still tingling inside of Castiel, inside all of him. Every part. Dean, who could take control at any moment, and do whatever he wanted to do with Cas' own body...

There were so many possibilities. 

And the thought of all of them was keeping Cas awake, because he knew that tomorrow they'd drive back to the motel where Jimmy lay, and Dean would possess that vessel again. And if Cas wanted to actually experiment with any of these things, this might be his only chance.

"Actually, Dean, I had some thoughts about what you could do if you took control for a while."

They were in a car in the middle of nowhere, and Dean didn't know how to drive. There was certainly a limit to the number of possibilities of things to do, and it didn't take long for Dean to catch on.

"Yeah, I have some interesting ideas of my own."

Cas let himself fall away, giving himself over to Dean completely. He knew that he could still talk and have Dean hear him, and that he'd be able to stop things if he ever wanted to, but he didn't intend to get too involved in the proceedings. He just lay and waited as Dean ran a hand over his body, the new vessel that he'd taken, sizing it up. Maybe comparing it to his last one. His hand lingering over certain areas - the nipples, the waist, the hipbones, and then longest of all over his groin - admiring the ways this new body jumped and reacted to the things he did, responding so differently to the previous one. 

And Jimmy Winchester had not been the first vessel he had ever taken, but he had been the first to inspire Dean to experiment with this vague human equivalent of sex, in the same way that Castiel was the first vessel who made him want to touch his own body, without another person to help the process along. It was a completely different experience, alone. He wasn't trying to respond to the reactions of another body he was with - there was no rush, no confusion about whether what they were feeling lined up with what he himself felt in response to a similar movement. Here, he was simply focusing on himself, on how his hips twitched just slightly more if he added a twist around the head when he was stroking his cock, or how if he stuck a hand up his shirt and pinched his nipple at the same moment, it would draw a gasp out of him that it was completely impossible to hold back. He could experiment with these things, try them over and over and over again, refining the movements until he knew exactly what it took to produce the best possible chemical signals in his brain, and the best part of all was that he knew Castiel was feeling every bit as good as he was.

He knew, already, certain things about the ways that Castiel liked to be touched, but he had not known until this point exactly why Castiel liked them. He'd never been able to fully appreciate the shower of sparks that went off inside Cas' mind when a thumb dipped into the slit at the head of his cock, holding pressure there for just a moment. He'd never completely understood that the first fingertip that brushed over the edge of his hole sent a flutter of anticipation throughout Cas that made him only able to concentrate on one thing - more.

He spoke to Castiel inside his mind. "Is this-" Somehow even his mental voice was breathless and panting. "Is this how you do things? When you're alone?"

"No," Cas responded almost immediately, and Dean almost dropped his hands, ready to apologize for not asking sooner, when- "This is far better. You put far more time and care into the process than I would ever think to."

Time and care. Those were both things that Dean was trying his best to focus on, because he wanted the both of them to have the best experience possible, and yet by this point it was taking everything in him not to just grab his- Cas' cock, and pump it desperately until he came all over himself, because it wouldn't take long, and because his stomach was twisting with a kind of need that ached, and because the soft flesh felt so familiar in his hand from all the times in the past he'd touched Castiel and yet so different now.

He almost let himself; giving himself a minute or so of desperate, uncontrolled thrusting with his hand almost becoming a blur, but refused to bring himself all the way over the edge, because as much effort as it took to take his hand away, it was worth it to keep this going for a little longer, to slide a finger all the way inside of himself and press it against his prostate just for a moment, so that his whole body rose off the seat and clenched up, condensing down to that one point where the finger had hit. He dragged another finger along the smooth skin bridging the gap between his balls and his hole, not expecting it to feel any different to touching regular skin, surprising himself when he shivered just a little bit, stopping everything else he was doing to rub back and forth there for a few seconds, his head falling to the side as he let out a small, desperate whine. Clearly, he still had so many things to learn about humans.

"Dean, I need it... need you to go faster..." Cas begged, pleading with Dean inside his mind, and it must have been torture for him to feel his own hand on his own cock just as he did every time he touched himself, yet have no control whatsoever over the pace or the pressure. Dean was still just playing with it, giving it the occasional light squeeze as if trying to take himself by surprise as well as Castiel, biting down on his own lip when the teasing started to be too much. But at Castiel's words he caved, letting himself stroke his cock faster and faster, the most important thing to him being ensuring that Castiel got whatever he needed.

Dean knew he was close again, and surprisingly, it was different to how it was with his old vessel. It was softer somehow, a gentler curve of feelings getting ever more intense rather than the sudden realization that he was almost there, and he could feel his cock physically grow in his hand as the orgasm rushed towards him in a way that he never could with Jimmy as a vessel. And there was something else he wasn't used to, either - the voice in the back of his mind, Castiel's voice, chanting, "Yes, Dean, yes, just like that, keep going- ah!"

It was a completely unnecessary voice in some ways, because Dean could feel everything that Cas could feel, every tiny burst of sensation that gave him exactly what he needed. At the same time, the voice was more necessary than anything else he had ever felt, and he wondered to himself that if he had to take his hand away right now and was left with nothing but Castiel's voice, would it be enough? He thought that maybe it would be.

The thought of someday getting off with no other assistance than Castiel's voice was far too much for Dean, and his cock pulsed (Cas' cock,  _ their _ cock) sending long white strands of come all over their clothes, the sensation climbing ever higher as the loud moans he was making exactly matched those of the voice inside of him.

He landed, and he expected to feel alone, just one body cold and shivering in the back of the car, but instead he felt safer and more cared for than he ever had in his life.

Dean gave control back to Castiel, and Castiel gave control over to sleep, closing his eyes happily and nuzzling into the sticky leather seat of the car as though it were a luxurious pillow, dropping off without further words.

~~~~

Dean and Cas stood, staring at the empty body of Jimmy Winchester laid out on the bed. The bullet wound had healed, but he lay completely still, clearly unconscious.

"What if we just stayed here?" Castiel mused. "You wouldn't have to go back to any other vessel. You could just go on possessing me, and so long as we communicated, you could give control to whoever needed it, and I'm sure we could make it work."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" 

Castiel laughed, taken by surprise. He supposed that it was, in fact, a fair analogy. "I believe I am. After all, you're here often enough."

Cas thought that he would have been able to feel Dean's groan even if Dean hadn't been possessing him.

"Yeah, well, I got commitment issues. Don't want to be tied down. I need to be able to flap my wings and fly off to Heaven or to the other side of the country at a moment's notice, and not have to worry about you needing control or something." Dean flexed his wings as he spoke, and Castiel could feel them, these pockets of raw power inside his back. He wondered how it would feel to have them burst free, and was a little sad that he'd never get to experience it.

"Commitment issues. Do I have to worry about you leaving me for some other hunter?"

"No," Dean chuckled, soothing Cas' soul with his amusement. "But sharing a vessel - it wouldn't be practical. You and me, we can get more done, maybe save more seals, if we're in separate bodies. We work together, but we're separate."

Castiel sighed, tilting his head towards the ceiling. "No, it wouldn't be practical. But it would be company."

"You're lonely?"

"You're inside my head. You know the answer to that."

They fell silent, still staring at Jimmy Winchester's body. Neither Dean nor Cas wanted to move towards it. Instead, they wanted to just appreciate this connection they had for a few seconds longer.

Finally, Dean and Cas sat on the side of the bed, Dean raising Cas' arm and using it to cup Jimmy's cheek. It felt colder than Castiel had expected, and didn't seem to be moving at all.

"He's dead," Dean informed. "Could bring him back, but what'd be the point? Living out his life as the vessel for a wayward angel? That's nobody's first career choice. Nah. His soul's up in Heaven now, and he'll be much happier there."

"So it'll be just you inside that body?" Castiel confirmed.

"Just me. A body of my own."

It might have been Cas' imagination, but he thought he felt a tingle of excitement shoot through Dean's Grace at that prospect, like a kid excited to get his first bike. It was frankly adorable.

"Alright," Cas nodded, resigning himself to being alone once more, helped a little by Dean's eagerness to finally have his own body. "Goodbye, Dean."

It wasn't really goodbye, but it felt like it to both of them as Dean placed his other hand on Jimmy's other cheek, holding him and leaning in close. He frowned in concentration, and Castiel felt the effort and exertion it took for Dean's Grace to leave him, a mass of pure, blue-white light twisting and curling its way out of Castiel's mouth and into Jimmy's.

And then it was gone, and Castiel suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter, his legs collapsing underneath him as though they had no real purpose. He grabbed onto the bedside cabinet to hold himself still, and he hadn't expected to feel so small without Dean inside of him.

He sank down onto the other bed, and a moment later, Jimmy -  _ Dean _ \- coughed and sat up on his own bed, rubbing at his eyes. Cas gave him some time, the two of them both adjusting to their separate bodies at once, but when Dean finally moved to sit next to Castiel and broke the silence, he didn't say what Cas was expecting.

"Cas, I owe you an apology."

It felt like there were miles between them, even though they were far closer to each other than most people were in polite conversation. Castiel felt cold, and he wanted to shiver, but tried to fight it because he didn't want Dean to feel guilty. Dean's Grace had been warming, almost like a safety blanket.

"An apology for what? You saved me. You've saved me so many times now. If anything, I owe you."

Dean shook his head. "I should have saved you sooner. It was my responsibility. I was given the task of rescuing you as soon as you went to Hell. Even for an angel, it wasn't easy. I had to find a vessel, Jimmy, who was okay with me possessing him once I was done, so that I could come find you and help you. And then I had to actually break into Hell. As you can imagine, they don't really like angels showing up. And then I had to find you, though that last part was actually easier than I expected. But the point is, I should have done better. You should have been out of there within days. Instead, it took months. There are things that you suffered - things that you  _ did _ \- that shouldn't have been necessary, and wouldn't have been, had I just done my job like I should. I failed you. And for that, I'm sorry. It's an empty word and it can't make up for what you had to go through back there. But I'm still sorry."

"I don't blame you," Castiel said immediately, because it was so much easier to not blame Dean. Dean and Gabriel were all he had right now, and Gabriel was acting strange, so Cas had to trust Dean because otherwise he wouldn't be able to trust anyone and where the hell would that leave him? So he chose to believe that Dean had done everything he possibly could to get him out of there are the earliest moment, and that belief was enough. 

"You did what you could. It would have been the same no matter who was assigned to save me."

"No. Among the angels, I'm cursed, Cas. I don't have the same drive that they have, or the same conviction that what I'm doing is right. I'm cursed to have emotions, and doubt, and all that... human shit. And you'd have been much better off if you'd had another angel assigned to you."

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, feeling just the faintest hint of what he'd felt when Dean had been actually possessing him, but it helped all the same.

"I would rather have you, Dean. Cursed or not."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (◕‿◕✿)


	5. it's a terrible life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So when I first had this idea this was the chapter I was the most excited to write, because I am Cabriel trash confirmed!! Also I'm really sorry for forgetting to update lat week - it was finals week and I had one Friday morning and it genuinely did not even cross my mind. <3 I love you all for reading and leaving kudos and commenting, thankyou so much everyone!!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: brother incest, memory loss

Castiel Smith woke at six AM to the sound of his alarm clock bleeping. He climbed out of bed with little effort, used to the routine of it all by now, and set the espresso machine to boil while he changed into his business clothes; a black suit with a blue and white striped shirt, accessorized with a red tie and suspenders. Gathering his things, he climbed into his Prius, pulling a face at the blast of the radio. He wasn't sure how it had somehow gotten tuned to a rock station. He changed it to something more appropriate for this hour of the morning and drove to work, taking a seat in his office and getting out his headset, ready to take some calls.

He didn't think much of it. He didn't think anything of it. This was his life, and he lived it without question.

When the clock ticked to five thirty, he picked up his briefcase again and called the elevator. There was a single other person standing there already - a short man, one of those guys from tech support, hair too long, the pale yellow polo a slightly sickening color on him.

Cas was planning on keeping to his own side of the elevator just as he usually did, not making eye contact, let along conversation. But this other man seemed determined to ignore Cas' casual avoidance.

"Do I know you?" the short guy asked.

Cas gave the guy another once over, just in case he'd missed something the first time. Nope. Definitely not Cas' type. "I don't think so."

"I'm sorry, man, you just look really familiar." Yeah, Cas had heard that tone of voice before, and he wasn't interested. Certainly not in someone he worked with.

"Save it for the health club, pal," he said, though with this guy's pudge, Cas was pretty sure he'd never been to a health club in his life.

The elevator stopped on the first floor. Cas walked out and headed for his car again, checking behind him and noticing that the other guy was still watching him.

He still didn't think anything of it.

~~~~

"Can I ask you a question?"

Gabriel Wesson had been trying to catch the eye of Castiel Smith, one of the important corporate guys who worked on the high up floors, since he'd got into the elevator, but he hadn't dared to speak until everyone else around them had left.

"Look, man, I told you, I'm not into the, uh—"

It was the most blatant lie that Gabriel had ever heard, but he wasn't here to deal with some guy's sexuality crisis. He was here for one reason and one reason only.

He'd had a dream about the guy last night. Usually, when he dreamed about the Director of Sales and Salad Dressing or whatever his actual title was, it would be the kind of dream he wouldn't actually want to mention to anyone - well, who could blame him? The guy was hot as hell and outranked Gabriel by about sixteen levels and Gabriel loved the idea of just grabbing him and throwing him down onto a bed somewhere - nope, that wasn't a good place for his thoughts to go right now, in this elevator. This particular dream hadn't been about sex. It had been about monsters. 

Gabriel had been a badass monster hunter widely known and feared by werewolves and demons and shapeshifters, which of course seemed completely plausible to him, but for some reason, Castiel Smith had been by his side. Of all people. Castiel Smith. The guy who looked like the most badass thing he'd ever done was give himself Cheerios for breakfast on a morning when he was supposed to be having Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

"Dude, come on, I'm not either," Gabriel lied, because it was easier that way. He definitely didn't want Castiel suspecting about those other dreams. "I just wanna ask you - what do you think about ghosts?"

Castiel stared at him in surprise. This definitely wasn't the normal elevator talk he was used to. "Ghosts?"

"Yeah. Do you believe in them?"

"Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought."

Gabriel supposed that he wasn't exactly surprised by that. Guy probably didn't think about anything wilder than what color bow tie he was going to wear to his next business function. That's what made him hot. As well as being an attractive authority figure, he was just begging to be completely corrupted by somebody's weirdness. Hopefully Gabriel's.

He kept going. "Vampires?"

Now Castiel was looking scared. "What? Why?"

Gabriel leaned against the elevator wall next to Castiel. "Because I've been having some weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?"

Castiel moved away. "No. Not really."

"So you've never had any... weird dreams of your own?"

The elevator stopped on Castiel's floor, and he stood in the doorway for a moment, holding it open. "Look, I know I don't know you. But I feel like I should take responsibility for telling you that you overshare."

Gabriel was even more glad that he hadn't mentioned the _other_ dreams.

~~~~

Behind Gabriel, the printed whirred. He sat in his cubicle, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the automatic pencil sharpener going round and round in the next cubicle, listening to some old-sounding guy talk through his problems on the phone. They were most likely his computer problems, but for all Gabriel was listening they could just have easily been marital problems, or bowel problems.

"Did you turn it off, then on?" Gabriel suggested when he sensed a lull in the conversation. He pulled a pad of Sandover Bridge & Iron paper towards him and began to doodle vampires, useless skills he'd learned in a college art class coming back to him.

"All right, well, let's try that. No, no, it's fine, I'll wait."

He pulled up a search engine on his computer, clicked in the box, and typed in 'vampires'. He ignored all the boring text results and instead clicked over to 'images.'

The man on the other end of the line sounded happier now. Gabriel caught the word 'printing', so he asked, "Is it printing now?" Pause for the man to speak. Still sounding happy. "Oh, that's great. Anytime."

The pencil sharpener in the next door cubicle stopped, and Ian, the guy who worked there, poked his head around the side of Gabriel's cubicle. Gabriel quickly shut off his search engine as Ian asked, "You get an email from Human Resources? Cause I'm supposed to, quote, report to HR, unquote."

Gabriel giggled. "Nope. But they're probably finally busting you for snaking all those office supplies."

"I hope they spank me," Ian laughed back.

That was a desire Gabriel could get behind, although if he was honest, he'd far rather be spanked by Castiel Smith than by anybody in HR. But at least this meant he didn't have competition.

Ian stood and left. Gabriel had only been back on his search engine for thirty seconds or so when he heard Paul, on the other side of him, speak in a panicked voice.

"No no no no no no. Come on. Don't do this to me. Please."

Gabriel leaned over, chuckling at the guy. "They're crap, Paul. They freeze all the time."

"You don't understand. When I, when I rebooted, everything was gone. A whole day's work deleted." Paul looked genuinely terrified.

"Well, did you back up?"

Paul stood up, red in the face, drawing everyone's attention as he almost yelled, "No, I didn't back up. I wish to God I backed up but I didn't! I'll get it back. I'll find it. It's somewhere. I'll find it!"

Gabriel frowned. "Paul, it's okay, man. These things happen," he tried to rationalize, even as Paul ran from the room, his phone buzzing on his desk where he'd left it.

The news that Paul was dead filtered back down to the basement offices not two hours later. The news of another suicide followed later that same day, and the next morning, Ian was absent from his desk, and Gabriel knew what had happened before anyone had confirmed it for definite.

He resumed his Internet search activities. From vampires he moved to werewolves, to demons, to shapeshifters and reapers and hellhounds and sirens and creatures he couldn't even pronounce the names of.

He was scared, but not for himself. Somehow he knew that whatever terrible thing was happening here - he wouldn't be targeted.

~~~~

"Tech support, this is Gabriel," Gabe said for the two hundred and eighty-sixth time that day.

A familiar, deep, unfairly sexy voice replied, "I need to see you in my office. Now."

He'd barely finished speaking before Gabriel was sprinting towards the elevator, his mind filling with ideas for reasons Castiel could possibly have for wanting to be alone in his office with Gabriel. Gabriel bounced where he stood in the elevator, almost vibrating, willing it to hurry up. He might almost have been faster taking the stares. He pounded on Castiel's door as soon as he reached it.

"Come on in. Shut the door," came the sexy voice again.

Gabriel closed the door behind himself and didn't even get a chance to speak before Castiel asked him, "Who the hell are you?"

Caught off guard, Gabriel blurted, "I'm not sure I know."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. This guy was no fun. He was lucky he was hot as hell and at least had that going for him.

"Gabe Wesson. I started here three weeks ago."

"I see. Gabe Wesson. You cornered me in the elevator talking about ghosts. And now I..." Castiel coughed, shaking his head at himself, before changing the subject. "So you started working here three weeks ago, huh?

Gabriel nodded.

"As did I."

Castiel unscrewed his bottle, using the familiar drink as a safety net, because this, he understood. What he'd seen in the bathroom he had no idea about, and it scared him. "It's the Master Cleanse. You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business," he explained, though Gabriel hadn't asked.

And Gabriel knew what Castiel had really called him here for. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't disappointed to learn that he hadn't been invited here for a quickie up against the door. But the fact that Castiel had witnessed one of the recent office suicides had already spread through the IT department as gossip always did, and that combined with their recent conversations... Gabriel was secretly thrilled that Castiel was confiding in him. 

"When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?" he asked, trying to keep the grin off his face.

Castiel frowned at him. "I don't know. I don't know what I saw. I was freaking out. I mean, the guy penciled his damn neck."

Gabriel couldn't fight the smile any longer, and he danced where he stood, looking like a small child. "You did, didn't you? Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something... not natural?"

"So, you're telling me that ghosts are real? And that they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? What possible factual basis do you have for that?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Instinct."

Castiel steeled all his nerves. He did not want to admit this, not even to himself, but he wasn't sure he had a choice. "I've got the same instinct."

Gabriel perked up, suddenly beaming, and it occurred to Castiel that when the guy wasn't being creepy and weird in the elevator, he was actually kind of adorable. 

"Seriously? You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts. And now... now it turns out that maybe there's a real ghost. And I'm not saying my dreams are, like, visions or anything. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So I've been digging around a little." Gabriel babbled, pulling papers from his bag and handing them over. "I think I found a connection between the two guys."

"You broke into their email accounts?" Cas asked, half horrified and half impressed.

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity."

Castiel shouldn't have approved, he should have told the guy off, sent _him_ to HR too, but- "Nice."

Gabriel grinned, pleased with himself. "Yeah. Okay. So it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four."

"HR's on seven."

"Exactly."

"Should we go check this out?"

"Like right now?" Gabriel asked, surprised.

Cas shook his head, clearly put off by Gabe's reluctance. "No. No, it's getting late. You're right."

Gabriel stared Castiel dead in the eye as he stated, "I am dying to check this out right the fuck now."

He stood up and grabbed Castiel's hand, tugging him out of the room towards... who the hell knew what.

~~~~

"I just found a website. Real ghost hunters. People who do this for their whole lives!" Castiel beckoned Gabriel over, clicking on the link, and the two of them stared in amazement as they watched two men (they didn't look like what you'd expect from ghost hunters, no strange mysterious long black cloaks or whatever happened in horror movies, they just looked like two regular guys, two guys you might pass on the street and not think anything of) talk so casually about burning remains and filling guns with rock salt.

Castiel and Gabriel sat, shaking, so close that their knees were almost touching, and though they didn't yet speak it aloud, they both felt a connection with the guys on the screen. They, too, had seen a real life ghost now. They'd seen the ghost and sure, they'd run away in terror, but who wouldn't? At least they were here, now, trying to find out more information. 

Trying to hopefully, maybe find out enough to get rid of it.

To save some lives.

"Here's a tip we learned from those douchenozzles the Novak brothers. Who we don't like. At all. And you certainly won't hear us taking any other tips from them," one of the Ghostfacers said for the third or fourth time in this video, and Castiel and Gabriel turned to look at each other in surprise. There were more of these ghost hunters. Maybe a lot of them. Enough that they had partners, and communities, and rivalries. It sounded... intriguing, to say the least.

They kept watching the videos long after they had all the information they probably needed, both of them staring in awe at these people who seemed, on the surface, to be so normal, yet were doing something so amazing with their lives.

 _That could be me_ , Castiel thought to himself. _That could be me. I don't have to be born into this or go to some special ghost training school, some Hogwarts School of Hunting and Monsters - I could just take this up, right now, even as a hobby. Finish work, drink my night time protein shake, kill a ghost before bedtime._

Who knew?

He didn't say that aloud, of course. He wasn't seriously considering it. He knew that after his night time protein shake the only thing he wanted to do was put on some music and curl up on the couch with a good book for a few hours. He certainly didn't want to walk out the door armed with a gun.

It was just good to know there were possibilities, somehow. Other options if he ever did get restless on the long evenings alone in his house.

They finally finished all the videos on the website, and Castiel and Gabriel looked at each other, eyes wide with excitement - no, nerves and fear, Castiel corrected himself, that was what he should be feeling. There was a ghost and he was supposed to be scared like a normal person.

"Alright. Let's go kill a ghost." Gabriel stood up.

Castiel laughed. "Yeah. Easy as that. Decide to kill a ghost and it just happens." Someone had to be the rational one here, no matter what thoughts were going through his mind.

"Well - who says it doesn't?"

~~~~

It was easy. It shouldn't have been easy, they should both have been suspicious of how easy it was for two out of shape guys who sat in office chairs all day and knew nothing about the mythology of ghosts, much less have any practical experience in fighting them, to successfully de-ghostify the building. But they weren't. The both of them were far too high on their shared success, far too full of adrenaline to overthink things. All they knew was that it felt good, instinctive almost, to use salt and an iron poker against the ghost of P. T. Sandover, to seek out his remains and burn them, the two of them focused on a single cause, barely noticing their own injuries as they gave all of themselves over to the hunt.

Castiel flopped back onto the chair in his office when they made it back there, successful, and he laughed. He actually laughed. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd done that. Had a polite chuckle at a joke a colleague had told him over his headset, of course, daily. But actually full on laughed? It didn't happen to him, not ever, and now it was a release.

"I have to tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life."

Gabriel nodded, studying him closely, and said, as casually as if he were suggesting getting a drink together- "We should keep doing this."

Castiel smirked. "Of course, sounds great. You know, quit our jobs, hit the road-"

"Yeah, we could, I don't know, steal credit cards! Eat in diners, share motel rooms, go on the lookout for more cases. Bet there's loads of ghosts out there. It'll be amazing."

It sounded like Gabriel was actually serious, so Cas quickly backtracked. "Gabriel. I was being sarcastic. We can't do this, we can't fight ghosts without health insurance."

Gabriel sighed. "Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be. You and me, I dreamed about us, I saw what we could be, and we're meant for better things than this. And I think... I think maybe in some other life we're already doing that. Or in this life. And we just don't remember it for some reason. Work with me on this, but those dreams about you and me? They're the only thing that's made any sense to me since we met!"

Castiel stood up, walking round to the front of the desk to challenge him. "No. I'm Castiel Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bobby, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo."

Gabriel stood up to match him, drawing himself up to his full not particularly impressive height. "Yeah, but when was the last time you talked to them? Cause I only moved here cause I just broke up with my fiancé Samuel. But I called his number and I got a damn animal hospital."

"Are you saying my family doesn't exist?" Castiel frowned, getting closer to Gabriel now, far closer than should really be allowed for the purposes of polite conversation, scowling in anger.

"All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know that deep down, you've got to be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag. This isn't you. I know you."

Castiel stared at him for a long moment, during which he decided that later he would blame this entire thing on the fact that he was exhausted and scared and high on adrenaline and had just killed a motherfucking ghost, and then he put a hand on Gabriel's still blood-spattered chest, forcing him back into the wall of the office and kissing him, hard.

For a moment, Gabriel was frozen in shock, but then he brought his hands round to tug at the suit jacket on Castiel's back, hooking one leg around Cas' own, making sure to pull him as close as possible, desperately hoping that he wouldn't want to pull away again.

And the longer and the harder they kissed, the more that Castiel started to believe Gabriel. The more he thought that these crazy things he was saying were a serious possibility. Which was ridiculous - it didn't make any sense, this close proximity to Gabriel had to be clouding his judgement, he couldn't let one good kiss (the first good kiss he'd had in years) make him throw away everything he'd worked so hard for all his life.

He had to pull away. Get some air, get some perspective.

"So let me get this straight. Or hopefully very not straight." Castiel smirked at his own joke, and Gabe couldn't help blushing. "You're kissing me because you think, maybe, in some alternate universe, we're dating. And killing ghosts. Monster killing boyfriends."

Put like that, it did sound a little ridiculous, but it was the only explanation Gabe could come up with. "Are you saying that you don't want to be my monster hunting boyfriend?"

Castiel let out a surprised chuckle. "Definitely didn't say that." Apparently air and perspective wasn't helping - but then again, Gabriel did still have his leg wrapped around Cas.

"In that case, yeah. Let's make it this universe too. You hand in my resignation first thing in the morning. We'll pack our bags and you can, I dunno, throw out my hair gel and I don't know how we'll make it, but we will. Somehow. But there are some things I don't want to wait til tomorrow for." He flicked his eyes down to Casriel's lips, eyeing them hungrily.

"You've got yourself a deal."

With that, Gabriel grabbed Cas by the shoulders and spun him round so that Cas was the one pressed into the door. "You. I wanted to get my hands on you since I first saw you in that elevator. That night I went home and I imagined you, thought about what it'd be like to snap those suspenders and unbutton your shirt halfway so that it got all creased, messing up your perfect outfit, pulling on your hair so that it stopped being so neat. You were meant to have sex hair, Cas, you'd look so beautiful with it all sticking up, especially if it was because of my fingers. Got myself off three times that night, and every single time, you were the only thing I could think about. I wanted you underneath me, wanted to watch you every time I slid inside you, seeing the look on your face as I fucked you hard into the mattress, not holding back. But this door will have to do. For now, at least. Plenty of time for motel mattresses later."

He didn't give Castiel a chance to respond before he crashed their lips together again, tugging Cas' bottom lip in between his own and sucking hard on it so that when he pulled away it was red and swollen. He flicked his tongue along the now sensitive bottom lip and then slipped it inside Cas' mouth, taking complete control of the kiss.

Castiel grabbed his shoulders, shoving him off, and Gabriel was about to panic, but there was no need. Almost immediately, Castiel was using the new space he'd given himself to bend down and sink his teeth into Gabriel's neck, sucking hard and trying to leave a mark, because if he claimed Gabriel well enough then there was no going back from that, then neither of them would be able to change their minds.

"You really imagined that?" Castiel panted, looking up at Gabriel with darkened eyes. "You're not just saying that?"

Gabriel almost laughed - _way to try your best to kill the mood, Cas_ \- but he stopped himself. "Yeah, course I imagined it. Never worked with anyone who looks as good as you before. And by work, I am of course referring to the ghosts," he panted between kisses.

"Thought about you too," Cas replied, tangling his hands in Gabriel's hair and pulling on it, "I know I haven't known you long, but it feels like I've been imagining you for much longer. Which is impossible. But now that I have you, I don't know how I ever survived without you."

Gabriel tugged on Cas' jacket, and he was pretty sure it ripped in his urgency to get it off, but it wasn't like that mattered anymore. Wasn't like Cas was going to need a fancy, impractical suit like that when the two of them were on the road together. "Oh yeah? Tell me more. Tell me exactly what you imagined me doing to you."

Cas screwed his eyes shut and leaned in to kiss Gabriel again, stalling for time. He couldn't answer that. His cheeks flamed red and he was too embarrassed, he couldn't say those words that seemed to come to Gabriel so easily.

"C'mon, Cas. Tell me. Wanna hear your sexy voice describing exactly what you want from me." Gabriel ground himself against Cas' thigh, and Cas let out an involuntary moan, because Gabriel was so hard, and Castiel couldn't believe that was all because of him.

"Okay. Okay," Cas panted, unable to stop himself from thrusting back against Gabriel, their dicks rubbing together through four layers of fabric (four? The thought floated into Castiel's mind that he had no idea whether Gabriel was wearing underwear or not. The thought of Gabriel completely naked all day underneath those work khakis as he made and received calls shouldn't have been hot, but somehow it was.)

"I... I imagined us... on my desk. I moved all my things out of the way and I lay down on it, and I know that if we did that in real life, it wouldn't be comfortable, but it was a fantasy, so I pretended that it didn't hurt my back..."

Gabriel growled, frantically undoing the buttons of Castiel's shirt and slipping his suspenders off his shoulders, leaving him wearing nothing but his tie. "Come on, Cas, get to the good parts. I don't care about whether your back hurt, I want you to talk about your cock."

Castiel blushed again just at the word. What was wrong with him? He'd had sex before, after all. It had just never been quite like this; never with someone who'd been quite as open about what they were doing as Gabriel was. 

"Right. Yeah. I was on the desk, I was naked. You were naked too. You kissed me... and then you marked up your chest, you left so many marks, on my nipples especially. They were going to be so sore afterwards, I knew, so when I went back to work afterwards and had my shirt back on, it would rub against them. I'd be able to feel it all day and nobody would know. And, the office door was closed, but not locked. Anyone could have walked in. I should have been scared and told you to stop, but... I wasn't. It was exciting, somehow. I wanted you to keep going."

Gabriel let out a long, low groan, and he moved faster against Cas, who was bumping against the door with every thrust. Gabriel's hands on Cas' bare shoulders, holding him in place, while Cas' arms were wrapped around Gabriel's back, squeezing tight as though holding on for dear life.

"Fuck, Cas. I knew it, you know. I knew you were secretly a kinky bastard like me. Keep going, fuck, please keep going."

Castiel didn't know if Gabriel meant the movements or the talking, but he was quite happy to continue with both. It was easier to talk now that he knew Gabriel approved of his fantasy. "I... I started begging you for more. But you wouldn't give it to me. You kept teasing me, you... you spread my legs open and put me on display and just looked at me. Refused to touch me for ages. And then you sucked my cock. And you had your fingers in my ass at the same time, and I wanted so badly to come, but you kept stopping me right before I could. You said it was payback for all those times I'd apparently teased you in the elevator. All those times I'd looked so good that you'd had to go jerk off in one of the bathrooms here..."

Castiel broke off, because that, surely, was too far even for Gabriel. Gabriel was going to laugh at him now, say that Cas was nowhere near attractive enough for that.

He didn't. If anything Gabriel only moved faster, scratching his nails down Gabriel's arm, both of their cocks painfully hard now as they rubbed against one another. "Fuck, I did that. How'd you know I did that? Used to tell the guy at the next desk that I was taking a smoke break. I don't smoke. I just went to the bathroom, waited until it was empty because I knew I couldn't stop myself from moaning out your name when I came... and it would only take me a couple minutes, I'd be so worked up from thinking about you while at my desk, from touching myself over my pants under the desk while I was on the phone with someone. My God, 'have you tried turning it off and then on again' had never seemed more relevant."

"Fuck..." Castiel groaned, long and loud, and he didn't curse, not ever, but right now he just couldn't stop himself. Everything Gabriel was saying was way too much for Castiel's brain which was used to nothing more than his own fantasies in the middle of the night with his lights off. This was the single hottest experience of Cas' life, and he had to get to the end of this story before he embarrassed himself and came in his pants, even though trying to talk right now was an effort, and he was forced to gasp for breath between every word.

"You teased me for so long, it wasn't fair, my lunch break was over, I could hear my phone ringing, I knew I should answer it, but there was no way I was letting you stop. Not when your fingers inside me felt so much better than my own and knew exactly the right spot... and then you stopped, you stopped everything and for a moment I was terrified that you were going to walk out and leave me hard and desperate. But of course you didn't. You fucked me right there on the desk, and it was the complete opposite of the teasing, it was brutal. You were... using me, just taking whatever you wanted from me, and I loved it more than anything in the world. You didn't even have to put a hand on me. I came so hard all over both of us, and you looked so hot all covered in my come, and as soon as you saw me there on the desk looking like a total mess, you came too, and when you were done you said it was the best orgasm you'd ever had in your life."

Castiel finished his story, and suddenly he couldn't bring himself to care whether he was embarrassing himself or not. He just needed Gabriel, right now, and he needed to come. There was no time to pull away and get their pants off, no time for anything that involved breaking the delicious, beautiful friction between them. Cas knew that his face was bright red and covered in sweat and he probably didn't look hot at all now, and so he buried his face in Gabriel's shoulder once more and let out a few broken whines as he rocked against him once, twice more, before spilling inside of his boxers with a harsh cry, sagging against Gabriel, grateful to have the door for support.

Gabriel kept hold of Cas, and he felt Cas' come soak through the three layers of fabric between them. Usually Gabriel prided himself on his stamina and he was sure that in future, when the two of them were on the road together, he'd prove to Cas that he really could keep going for hours and do everything that Cas had just described to him in that unimaginably hot fantasy of his - but right now, Gabriel was too caught up in the fact that Cas had just come _that_ hard for him. He managed a few more thrusts against Cas' softening cock, each one dragging yet another whimper from the now oversensitive Castiel, and then he came too, just as hard, all the adrenaline of the hunt pouring out of him in one long cry of _"Castiel!"_

Neither of them could hold themselves up any longer, and they both slumped to the floor, half sitting and half lying against one another, both of them looking like a complete fucked out mess despite the fact that Gabriel still had all his clothes on. But it was late, and they were alone, and they didn't have to worry about being caught. They could give themselves the luxury of coming down from their highs together, exchanging lazy, sleepy smiles with one another.

They didn't speak. They didn't have to speak. They both understood somehow what the other one was thinking.

Finally, they found enough energy to help one another to their feet and gather their things. They'd happily have slept there, but Castiel knew there was no way his work clothes would survive another day, and their respective beds would be so much more comfortable than the scratchy carpet on Castiel's office floor.

The two of them walked out to the parking lot in silence, hand in hand. Castiel let his thoughts drift, and he should have been scared of what he was going to do - but now he'd made his decision, there was no way he wasn't going to stick to it. He squeezed Gabriel's hand to remind him that he was there. So long as Gabriel was sure about this, Cas was too.

They reached Gabriel's car; the place where they had to part for the night. Just one more night, and then they could start this new, insane life, freefalling into this world of hunting that their Internet adventures had barely scratched the surface of.

"Castiel?"

"Mmm?"

"What if I wake up tomorrow and this has just been another one of my weird monster hunting dreams? What if it turns out you're not actually here?"

Castiel squeezed Gabriel tight and buried his face in his hair. "This is real. I promise you. You and me, the ghost, all of it. Real."

~~~~

"Castiel Smith! How's work treating you?"

Cas mumbled his way through a few minutes of small talk with Mr Adler, trying to figure out what the guy really wanted here. A few days ago he'd been all about this - talking to people, making connections with his coworkers, trying to advance his way up the company ladder. And now there was nothing that sounded worse to him.

Finally, Mr Adler slid a piece of paper across the desk to him, ending a conversation that Castiel felt like he'd barely been present for. "How's that for a bonus?"

Castiel stared at the number on the page, and the figures swam in front of his eyes. He couldn't even make them out. It was just a number.

Just a number, while Gabriel was a whole person, one who made jokes and inspired Castiel to take new chances and be someone better than he had been, one who was beautiful and interesting and had for some reason chosen Castiel, out of everyone, to be his monster hunting boyfriend.

"That's very generous, Mr Adler, but I have decided to hand in my notice."

Mr Adler stared at him in horror, and Castiel couldn't help but take a certain vindictive pleasure in it as Mr Adler said, "This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?"

Castiel smiled innocently as he replied, "No. I've very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's very important to me."

"Castiel, Castiel, Castiel. Finally."

Cas blinked. That hadn't been the response he was expecting. "What?"

Mr Adler stood up; pressed two fingers to Castiel's forehead. Suddenly everything was brighter somehow, every color in the office more saturated, and it gave him a headache. The room started to spin around Castiel, and he gripped the desk so hard that his knuckles went white. He could barely remember where he was.

"Welcome back."

Castiel tried to stand up. Memories upon memories were coming back to him - a whole life's worth of memories that he'd had no idea about until just a moment ago. He stumbled over his own words. "Did you - are you - you're an angel, aren't you?"

Mr Adler's lips curved up into something that most definitely could not be described as a smile. "I'm Zachariah."

"Excellent. All I need is another one of you guys." Apparently losing and then regaining his memories had not taken away Castiel's sarcasm. "What did you do? Create a... a hallucination for Gabriel and I to live in?"

Zachariah shook his head. "Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

"Why?" Castiel had a few decent guesses as to why, but he was still lightheaded, still didn't have the energy to articulate them.

"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Castiel, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it. You'll do everything you're destined to do."

Castiel was still shaking, but now it wasn't because of the dizziness, it was in anger.

"Angel or not, I will happily stab you in your face."

Zachariah chuckled, seemingly not disturbed by the threat in the slightest. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things. Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Castiel, quit whining about it. Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?"

Memories continued to fade back into Castiel's mind, as though they'd always been there but just obscured by storm clouds, and finally those memories caught up to the present day - or almost the present day. He remembered meeting up with Gabriel again after Dean had taken Jimmy Winchester as a vessel once more. He remembered Dean being called back to Heaven, temporarily, and hearing news of something that may be another seal the three of them had to prevent from breaking. He remembered getting in the car to make the long drive up to Ohio, and he remembered pulling into a rest stop so that Gabriel could stock up on candy. He remembered drumming 'Eye of the Tiger' on the steering while he waited for a seemingly endless time for Gabriel to come back, and he remembered Gabriel finally dropping into the passenger seat carrying so many candy bars that several of them fell down the sides of the seat, guaranteed to make a sticky mess later, and...

He did not remember driving away from the rest stop.

He just remembered waking up in that house that hadn't been his, putting on the wrong clothes, making the wrong coffee.

Except they'd felt right at the time.

Zachariah, Castiel reminded himself - walked to the door and opened it. Gabriel walked inside, wearing his standard hunting plaid, not his tech support uniform. The look on his face told Castiel that both of them knew everything now.

Castiel didn't have a clue what to say.

"I'll leave the two of you here. I'm sure you have plenty to talk about," Zachariah smirked, even though he had no idea just how true that was. He strode out the door, purposefully bumping Gabriel's shoulder with his own as he passed. Gabriel winced, and Castiel wondered if he was still a little sore from last night, too.

Last night. Castiel cringed just thinking about it. He couldn't believe he'd--

The two of them sat in silence for far too long in an office that didn't really exist, trading glances as they both thought back on the past few days, days neither of them were sure whether or not they even counted.

"So. Earlier. After the ghost. You, me, up against that door..."

"Shut up, Gabriel," Castiel snapped, quicker than he'd intended to.

Gabriel held up a hand in surrender. "I'm sorry! Knew you were uptight, didn't realize I was that horrifying a thought. So I'm your brother. So fucking what?"

"It's not that," Cas shook his head, looking almost like he was in pain.

"Great. I just sucked, then."

Castiel didn't say anything to reassure him, just stayed silent for a while, trying to puzzle things through in his mind.

He didn't want to talk to Gabriel about this, because he knew that Gabriel wasn't exactly the most unbiased party, but there wasn't really anyone else he could mention it to.

All of a sudden, he turned to face Gabriel and blurted, "Did I cheat on Dean?"

"What?" Gabriel spluttered.

"Did I cheat on Dean? Neither he nor I have had sex with anyone else, nor any kind of interest in anyone else, since we met. And yet, just a couple of hours ago, you and I... well, you remember."

"You didn't know! You didn't have your memories! Zachariah made sure you had no clue who Dean was! I'm hardly an expert on relationships but personally I think temporary amnesia is a valid reason for cheating."

Castiel scoffed. "Yeah, well, you would argue that side."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

It meant that Castiel was well aware that this wasn't the first time Gabriel had thought about this. It meant that he knew that Gabriel hadn't exactly been supportive of everything that had happened between him and Dean. It meant...

It meant unnecessary complications.

~~~~

They made their way outside, where the Continental was waiting for them, parked in the parking space reserved for the CEO as though it had been whizzed there by angel valet. It was a relief to see it again, and Castiel knew that thoughts of that godawful Prius were going to haunt his nightmares for many nights still to come. But he still felt uncomfortable with the idea that Zachariah or some other angelic soldier had touched his Baby, had been able to get to him while he was inside. That car was the one safe space he'd ever known, and now it was vulnerable. Just another tool that the archangels could use against him, or to identify him.

For the first time, he wondered if Gabriel might have been right all those times he said the car was too recognizable for hunting. Perhaps Zachariah had been right about one thing. If Castiel had owned a Prius, nobody would have spotted him or suspected him on the roads. 

Perhaps he should do it. The Continental would probably sell for decent money. He could use the proceeds to buy any decent, unobtrusive suburban American car. Maybe then they'd have a hope in hell of not being spotted the second they rolled up somewhere in their sparkly gold monstrosity.

Castiel didn't like to think of himself as overly sentimental, but his grip tightened almost painfully on the steering wheel at the thought of leaving this car behind.

And then, unexpectedly, his thoughts were interrupted when Gabriel giggled in the passenger seat. He actually giggled, a sweet sound that rang through Castiel's ears and reminded him of the days they'd spent together as children, just the two of them, the occasional times he'd been able to tell a joke that made Gabriel laugh.

"What's funny?" Castiel asked, amused.

Gabriel shuffled closer and leaned a head on his shoulder. "Just thinking. What if we do the opposite of what Zachariah wants from us?"

"I'm listening."

"He wanted us to quit our corporate jobs and realize we were meant to hunt monsters and stop Lucifer from getting free or whatever. What if it works out the other way round? What if we give up on all this Apocalypse crap and go get office jobs? Live together in a real house, bore each other to tears with tales of what paperwork our bosses had us do that day... I can almost see it, Cassie. Because, sure, it was depressing as hell wearing a headset and telling people to turn things off and then back on again. But when you and I were together, when we didn't realize there was any reason why we shouldn't be... well, that was something. You have to agree with me on this one."

Castiel shrugged his shoulder, dislodging Gabriel's head. The whole problem was that he _did_ agree.

"What, and we're supposed to just leave the second coming of Lucifer for someone else to deal with? I wish it wasn't our responsibility, too. But it is. And I'm going to fight for as long as I have to. That's all I know how to do."

Gabriel nodded. He supposed he should have seen that coming. Out of the two of them, he'd always been the only one with any talent for running away.

"You didn't answer the other part of what I said," Gabriel said in a tiny voice, blinking up at Cas.

Castiel turned away before answering.

"It was everything I had ever imagined it would be."


	6. lucifer rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no porn in this chapter and I am SO SORRY, but this concludes part one and I promise you the next chapter will make up for it!! <3
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, demon blood drinking, Crowley being a dick, all that vessels stuff from early s5

Gabriel Novak liked to think that his life was worth something.

It probably wasn't, if he was honest with himself. But being honest with himself was severely overrated, so he didn't bother with it a lot of the time. Instead, he looked back on the people he'd saved. The ones who he'd rescued from monsters while out on hunts, the ones who might have died at the hands of vengeful spirits or demons if it weren't for him. 

He supposed there were really quite a lot of them, and he pretended that counted for something.

It helped him sleep at night, and getting more sleep at night helped him solve cases faster and save even more people, which made it some kind of - what's the opposite of a vicious circle? A virtuous square? Gabriel would go with that. He would call himself a virtuous square, and it had successfully got him through four year of hunting with Castiel again without completely and totally breaking down.

But he couldn't hide from the truth. Not forever. And every tiny lie that he'd told himself to make himself feel better had gathered together in his head and was rushing forward to attack him right here, right now, all at once in this chapel.

He wasn't even sure if the blinding light surrounding him was real or just inside his head.

And he could no longer deny anything to himself. Because he'd failed. Sixty-six seals, sixty-six chances to make sure Lucifer couldn't possibly escape, and he'd failed at every single turn. And Castiel stood on one side of him, and Crowley the other, and Gabriel was caught between both of them, even as both of them were surely disappointed in him to the point of never wanting to even look at him again. Because he'd let the devil free. And no amount of people he might have saved, or helped, or shared his candy with - nothing, nothing could ever compensate for that.

The light grew bigger, a rushing, roaring noise filling Gabriel's ears, and he was convinced it was over and he was dying, and he considered that it didn't entirely matter either way, because alive or dead, the thoughts in his head right now were a worse torture than anything some demon in Hell could come up with.

And then-

And then everything was gone. Castiel and Gabriel were sitting on the floor of a particularly grimy motel room, facing each other, and all around was silence and calm. Their things were there. The beds were even rumpled. The sun shone outside, and birds chirped, and it seemed for all intents and purposes to be a completely normal day - as though they hadn't been witnessing the Devil being raised from Hell just minutes beforehand.

It was disorienting to say the least.

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, some exclamation of shock and disbelief, but he didn't get the chance. Castiel had clearly seen something he hadn't, because his eyes were fixed on a point above Gabriel's head, and he said - 

"Hello, Dean."

~~~

"Hey, baby. I missed you."

Gabriel had been lying awake for hours by this point. He and Castiel and Dean were travelling, moving from motel to motel once again and refusing to settle down in one place as they tried to make sense of what had happened, and of course the other two had decided to get their own separate motel room, which left Gabriel all alone again. Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion that Castiel was still feeling guilty over what had happened when they'd been brainwashed by Zachariah, and still confused about things that neither of them quite wanted to talk about.

Gabriel understood Castiel's reasons for it all, but that didn't change the fact that here, right now, he was lonely. And he couldn't sleep.

He turned over to find the source of the voice. Alfie was lying in bed opposite him, still in that same damn Weiner Hut uniform he'd been wearing the first time Gabriel met him. And the last.

There was only one possible explanation for this.

"Alfie. I'm dreaming."

"Or you're not. What's the difference? I'm here."

It was exactly the kind of thing that Alfie would say. The kid always just wanted Gabriel to enjoy every moment the two of them spent together. It wouldn't have mattered to him whether Gabriel was awake, or asleep, or even alive. Just so long as he was happy. That was all Alfie ever wanted for him.

Perhaps Gabriel could let himself enjoy these few moments with him. Even though they would end, he thought he owed Alfie that much.

"I miss you so much," Gabriel choked. He wanted to say 'I love you,' but he couldn't quite manage it.

"I miss you too. What are you doing, Gabriel?"

Gabriel shook his head, because he had no idea how to answer that.

"Even at Stanford you knew. You knew there was something dark inside of you. Deep down, maybe, but you knew. Maybe that's what got me killed. Me? I was dead from the moment we said hello."

Gabriel didn't remember saying hello. He remembered saying 'I'll take a bacon dog with extra hot sauce. Maybe then it'll come close to being as hot as you.'

Alfie continued, even though Gabriel hadn't replied. "Someday? Your past is going to catch up to you. Just like last time. You won't be able to run. Or to hide. And you certainly won't be able to deny the truth."

"You're not Alfie."

Gabriel supposed that he had known it all along. How could it have been? But he hadn't wanted to admit it, because while whoever this was had still been acting like Alfie, it was so, so easy to pretend. But that? That wasn't something that Alfie would ever say. 

Not-Alfie chuckled, a harsh, hollow sound that made Gabriel shiver again even underneath all his blankets. "You're right. I'm not. But let me tell you, I know you far better than he ever did."

"There's two people in the world who know me better than he does. Guess again." 

Not-Alfie shook his head, looking almost pitying. It was a disgusting, horrible look that should never have been seen on that face. 

"Sooner or later the past is going to catch up to you like it always does. You know what happens then? People die. The people closest to you die, don't they, baby? Things are never gonna change with you. Ever."

Gabriel scowled. He was terrified of whoever this was, but he refused to show it. "Don't you call me that, whoever you are. And God knows how much I miss Alfie. But you're wrong. People can change. There is reason for hope."

"No, baby. There isn't."

"How can you be so sure?"

And in front of Gabriel's eyes, Alfie changed, became a different figure lying on the bed next to him - taller, harsher somehow. "Because you freed me."

Gabriel gasped, understanding all at once, scrambling out of the bed, pulling the blankets close to him as though they would protect him from-

"That's right. You know who I am."

"What do you want with me?" Gabriel squeaked, unable to hide his fear.

Lucifer smiled, his eyes glittering with something that made Gabriel cower even further away. "Thanks to you, I walk the earth. I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything. You're the one, Sam. You're my vessel. My true vessel."

Gabriel supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He was, of course - he was struggling to breathe, his hands gripping his blankets so tight that he thought he might tear holes through them, chest rising and falling in sheer panic. He was surprised, but he shouldn't be. After all, didn't it make perfect sense? Someone as worthless as he was, who had fucked up as many times as he had, destined to be the vessel for the literal Devil?

He thought of himself as a piece of shit, but he had assumed up until now that there were a few slightly bigger pieces of shit out there, somewhere. Apparently he'd been wrong about that.

"No. That'll never happen."

Gabriel shook his head, and he wasn't sure of many things, but he was sure of this. He had to be sure of this, it was the only way he could keep himself sane here. He refused to even entertain the possibility. Castiel would protect him. He would never let Lucifer possess Gabriel, not if it killed him. Not that Gabriel was prepared to let Castiel die for him again, but there would be another way, they'd find it, they always did-

"I'm sorry, but it will. I will find you. And when I do, you will let me in. I'm sure of it."

Gabriel blinked in surprise. "You need my consent?"

"Of course. I'm an angel."

Gabriel forced himself to stand tall, focusing on the rational part of his brain which reminded him that this had to be some kind of dream, or vision, because Lucifer couldn't possibly actually be here. "I will kill myself before letting you in."

"I'll just bring you back." Lucifer waved a hand casually, dismissing him. "Gabriel. My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you've done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. If there was some other way...but there isn't. I will never lie to you. I will never trick you. But you will say yes to me."

Gabriel's eyes were wide with terror. He wanted to get the hell out of this dream, even though he knew that wouldn't help him escape any of this crap. "Why me?"

"Because it had to be you, Gabriel. It always had to be you."

Gabriel jolted awake. He was alone in the same room that he'd been dreaming about. The window was cracked and the breeze made a horrible rattling sound when it passed through it, the kind of noise that reminded him of a vengeful spirit. 

That said, he wasn't scared of vengeful spirits. He was scared of Lucifer. And, if he could find him, Lucifer wasn't going to need a crack in the window to come and find him. And even though he needed Gabriel's consent to possess him, Gabriel could only imagine the many hundreds of terrible things that Lucifer could do that he didn't need consent for.

Gabriel didn't want to imagine, so he climbed out of bed, leaving the warm blankets behind this time, putting on his coat to slightly compensate for the loss of warmth. Then, he left.

Gabriel paused outside Castiel and Dean's door, pressing his ear against it, hoping to hear something from the inside, but there was nothing but calm. Now that he wasn't facing off with Lucifer in his dream, but was instead all alone, he began to wonder if he might have been too optimistic saying that Castiel would save him. If it came down to choosing between Gabriel and Dean...

Gabriel shivered again and pulled his coat tighter around him, and walked outside to the parking lot. It was September and the air was just starting to get chilly, definitely too cold for him to be wearing nothing more than pajamas. And yet, as he so often did, he completely ignored his common sense as he climbed into the driver's seat of the Continental, his slippered feet stretching to reach the pedals, driving to the last hotel address Crowley had given him since the dude seemed to have a near constant supply of hotels, each more decadent than the last.

He didn't have a clue what he was supposed to do about this, but Crowley had ways of helping him forget about it for a while, and that was just about the only option he had left.

~~~~

"I'm supposed to be Lucifer's vessel."

"That asshole? You can do better. Be my vessel instead."

That certainly hadn't been what Gabriel was expecting when he told Crowley the news, but he could roll with it, and maybe throwing out a few insults would help him to feel better about the whole shitty situation. "Oh, you think that's an improvement? Listen, I know Lucifer is the literal Devil, but if it came down to the choice between you two, I'm pretty sure I'd still pick him."

"Only because I'm perfectly happy with the body I have now. I find it a vast improvement over a kid short enough to be a step stool with a chubby stomach."

"Yeah, but at least I didn't have to sell my soul to get a decent sized cock," Gabriel threw back, trying to pretend the insult to his stomach didn't bother him.

"At least I could sell my soul. No self respecting demon would even take yours. You'd be lucky to be able to give it away."

"Hey, at least I still have a soul. Not that I really think something as insignificant as a soul could make you a decent person, but still."

"That's adorable. After all this time, you still have hopes of being a decent person? You're the true vessel of Lucifer. If that doesn't say otherwise, I don't know what does."

Gabriel's plan had horribly backfired, and where he'd been hoping for a distraction, perhaps even a more positive spin on a situation which he couldn't see any positives in, but no, Crowley had just made him feel even more shit about himself. He supposed that was what you got for trusting the King of Hell, but then again, he'd been basically out of other options.

"Yeah. You're right. Back to more important things. You worked underneath Lucifer. What do you know about him?"

"He's not a demon. He's not like the rest of us. He's an archangel," Crowley began, as though he was imparting some great wisdom 

"Yeah, I went to school," Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.

"And archangels? They're not worth bothering with. Demons, at the very least, are easy to control. They're stupid, useless, but you can make them do what you want. Archangels? Far too much effort."

"Not all of them," Gabriel blurted before he even had a chance to think that maybe this was a damn stupid thing to say.

"Yes all of them," Crowley scoffed. "Let me explain this. There's four. Michael, the soldier, the boring one, far too good and too virtuous to even bother thinking about. Lucifer, the one who fell, whiny brat who thinks demons should do what he says just because he created them. Raphael, the fighter, thinks it's been a useless day when he hasn't killed at least five demons and just as many of his own kind. And then there's Samuel. And he's the worst of all."

Gabriel's eyes widened with fear, and he didn't want to know, but he couldn't not ask, he couldn't stop himself--

"What's wrong with Samuel?"

Crowley took a deep breath, gearing himself up to yell.

"He ate my tailor!"

~~~~

Gabriel could cope with the blood better now. His body still tried to reject it at first, his soul human enough to scream and fight against it, but it had been worn down by months of being pumped full of the stuff, and it wasn't long before Gabriel was begging for more, his body thrumming with adrenaline, feeling wild and powerful once again. 

Powerful.

Powerful enough to take on Lucifer?

Crowley beckoned Gabriel onto the bed next to him, and Gabriel sat down, just perched on the edge, not wanting to get any closer. Crowley grabbed Gabriel by the wrist and tugged him on top of him, tangling fingers in his hair and yanking hard, pulling him down for a kiss that was so fierce it was almost painful.

Gabriel struggled to get away, feeling some of his hair rip from his scalp with the effort of holding Crowley down while he escaped. "Not now, Crowley, we've got more important shit to deal with!" he yelled, brushing himself off and standing up once again, a safe distance away.

"More important?" Crowley raised an eyebrow, like he couldn't imagine anything more important than his own dick.

"I can't let myself be his vessel, Crowley, please. You're right, I'm not a decent person, I'm an asshole who treats everyone like shit and who ran out on his own brother and gets jealous too easily and will do pretty much anything to achieve my goals. I know all this stuff, you've said it before, you don't have to say it again. But I cannot let myself believe that I'm as bad as the Devil. Cause if I start believing that, then I got nothing to live for."

Crowley still looked pissed off that Gabriel had rejected him. "Then don't be his vessel. He needs consent, it's as simple as saying no. What the fuck else do you want me to do about it?"

Gabriel didn't dignify that with a reply. He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him, although the sound wasn't as satisfying as it would have been in a motel considering that the soft carpet here muffled the sound too much, and he physically felt all the power drain from him. Perhaps not powerful enough to take on Lucifer after all.

"Just didn't have anyone else to go to," he whispered through a lump in his throat once he was in the corridor and out of hearing distance.

~~~~

"Playtime's over, Castiel. Time to come with us."

Castiel opened his eyes. He was lying in a room - a room somewhere, or maybe a room nowhere, because it was one of those rooms that looked so perfectly constructed that it couldn't possibly be real. It had to have been snapped up by an angel to be used for their own purposes.

Castiel sat up, and he was about to ask who'd summoned him there and why, when Zachariah strolled in front of him, smirking down at him. Cas immediately scrambled to his feet so that the two of them could be at eye level.

"Congratulations, Castiel. While you've been busy trying to deal with the fact that you're in love with your brother, Lucifer's escaped. There are good times for a sexuality crisis, and this isn't one of them."

Castiel froze, because how did Zachariah know about that, he wasn't supposed to know, nobody was supposed to know what had happened in that office except for him and Gabriel. 

"I-" he choked.

"You're upset."

Castiel took a few deep breaths to collect himself. "The angels have jumpstarted Judgement Day, I think I'm entitled to be upset," Castiel said coldly, focusing on that, the more pressing matter at hand, rather than the other thing that Zachariah had just said. 

Zachariah raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we let it happen. We didn't start anything. But either way... we're back on the same team again."

Castiel shook his head, forcing a smile so that Zachariah would see just how amused he was by the concept of the two of them on the same side. "Is that so?"

"But of course. You want to kill the devil. We want you to kill the devil. It's...synergy."

Castiel frowned, suspicious. "You want me to kill the devil. Wouldn't you be better off doing it yourselves? One human, surely, cannot match up to the power of all the angels in Heaven combined. What's your angle here?"

Zachariah smiled, pacing back and forth in front of him. "Castiel, Castiel, Castiel. Even all the angels in Heaven are no match for Lucifer. Only one thing can kill him. Have you heard of the Michael sword?"

Castiel nodded. "The head archangel, Michael. That's the weapon he uses."

"That's correct. And, you know, for a time we lost the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us."

Castiel frowned. "I don't have anything."

"It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword."

Castiel stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

Zachariah laughed, the kind of forced, humorless laugh that made Castiel want to punch his smug face until his nose was dripping blood and he physically couldn't make that noise any longer. But he managed to restrain himself, for now at least, and Zachariah continued.

"You were right - there's no way you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You're just a human, Castiel. And not much of one."

Castiel shook his head, still confused, still enraged. "What do you mean, I'm the sword?"

"You're Michael's weapon. Or, rather, his... I believe 'vessel' is the term you use. Personally, I prefer 'receptacle'."

Castiel felt the room upend around him. No. He wasn't. He couldn't be. Zachariah was fucking with him yet again, because he could, because he wanted to scare him, for any number of reasons. But Cas was just a human. That was the one thing he and Zachariah would always agree on. Cas was just a human, and not much of one either, and he had never been more grateful for that fact than he was right now.

"I'm his vessel? No. There's been a mistake. If I kill Lucifer, it'll be on my terms. Not because I'm possessed by an angel. If you've been in my head as much as you say you have, you must know there's only one angel that I'd ever let in."

Zachariah's face twisted into a smirk. "Oh, I know. I also know how to convince you."

He snapped his fingers, and another figure appeared next to Castiel, staring around the room in shock.

Instinctively, Cas reached for his brother and tried to pull him close, protecting him with his arms even if there was nothing else he could use to defend the two of them - but before he had a chance, Zachariah snapped his fingers again and Gabriel crumpled to the floor, his legs completely giving out, shouting in agony.

"What the fuck did you just do?" Castiel growled, rounding on Zachariah, his eyes blazing with the kind of fury reserved only for people who hurt his little brother.

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "I just broke both of his legs. Keep mouthing off and I'll do worse. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel, you, and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?"

Castiel stepped closer to him, refusing to be intimidated. "And how many humans end up as collateral damage, Zachariah? A million? Five, ten?"

"Probably more. But if Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

Castiel shook his head. There was no way he was allowing either of those things to happen. He'd take on the whole host of Heaven himself if it meant the world could have even a chance at being saved - but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. "There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just forcing me. You need my consent. Michael needs permission to take me as a vessel."

"Unfortunately, yes. But there is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written."

"Yes, I read the Bible. But, on the other hand... as Dean would say, bite me. The answer's no."

An evil smile played over Zachariah's face. "Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we, uh, we _hear_ he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again."

Gabriel glanced up at Castiel, big golden eyes widening, and Castiel knew his brother would do anything to stop Bobby from getting hurt. And part of Cas hated himself for not even considering it, but they couldn't afford to be sentimental, not when so much was at stake. He had to be the soldier, the one who played by the rules when Gabriel tried to blink those beautiful eyes up at him and convince him otherwise, just like he had when they were kids.

"No."

Zachariah wasn't put off by his refusal. "Then how about we heal you from...stage-four stomach cancer?"

Castiel doubled over, coughing into his hand, blood spattering on his palm, and still he choked out a single word.

"No."

"Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how... Gabriel here does without his lungs."

He snapped again, and immediately Gabriel began to wheeze in agony.

Zachariah seemed genuinely delighted at his pain. "Are we having fun yet? You're going to say yes, Castiel."

"Just kill us," Castiel choked out, because he'd died for this once before, he wasn't even supposed to be here still. He was probably still fucking up the balance of the universe by being alive. By this point it wasn't even the easy way out, it was just the most sensible option.

"Kill you? Oh, no. I'm just getting started."

There was a flash of light, and Zachariah turned towards its source. Castiel followed his gaze. Dean stood in the center of the room, brandishing an angel blade, advancing on Zachariah. His trench coat billowed around him, the air he'd disturbed by teleporting into the room still swirling around him, trying to get back into its normal position.

"Zachariah? They're coming with me, you son of a bitch."

Panic flickered across Zachariah's face before he managed to turn it back into the cold mask it had been before. "Oh, are they now? I really don't think it's that simple."

"Put them back together and let us go, or I swear to our father you will live to regret it." Castiel had never heard so much pure anger in Dean's voice.

"An idle threat, Dean. Killing me doesn't solve any of your problems. It doesn't solve the Apocalypse. It doesn't solve the fact that your boy toy here is going to be Michael's vessel. And it certainly doesn't solve the issue of where your loyalties are."

"Oh, trust me, you know the answer to that last one. You just don't want to admit it. Because it scares you." Dean advanced on Zachariah, raising the blade high, refusing to back down.

~~~~

"I have to make sure none of the angels can find you again."

They were back in the motel; in Dean and Castiel's room. The bedcovers were rumpled and Gabriel was doing his best not to think about the lingering smell and whatever it might be.

Castiel and Gabriel lay on the bed, both of them still too shaken up from the experience to respond. Dean paced in front of the window, and the light glinted off his hair, reminding Castiel of the halo that he still hadn't seen.

"I shouldn't have let this happen, should have done something ages back. And it's even more important now. Michael and Lucifer cannot be allowed to figure out where you are. I mean, I'm with you guys through it all, don't you ever forget that, but... I'm one angel, I can't guarantee I'll always be able to save you. This is a better solution."

"What are you gonna do?" Gabriel coughed. His throat was still sore. He was well aware that Zachariah was completely capable of healing him perfectly, but apparently the dude was just that much of an asshole.

"Angel warding sigils. Gonna carve them into your ribs. It'll hurt, but not as much as what Zachariah did to you just now, so it'll be worth it."

Gabriel shrugged, because he didn't have enough energy to protest. Dean advanced on him, pressing two fingers to Gabriel's forehead. Gabriel winced in pain, and the last thing he needed today was more pain, but he refused to let himself cry out. When Dean removed his hand, Gabriel felt the very bones in his chest burning.

"Me, as well?" Castiel confirmed.

Dean's voice softened as he sat down on the bed next to Cas. "Of course. I'll do everything in my power to protect you."

It might have been Gabriel's imagination, but it seemed like Dean stumbled after the 'of course' - as though if he and Castiel had been alone, there would have been some sort of pet name there.

Dean cupped Castiel's face with both of his hands, and the moment their eyes locked on one another, green and blue, the colors of the Earth they were trying so hard to save, everything else around them seemed to fade away. A pulse of blue-white light made its way from Dean's chest into Castiel's, and the two of them seemed to hold the pose for far longer than was really necessary.

There was no place for Gabriel in that moment, and he supposed he wasn't entirely surprised. They had an apocalypse to stop. Dean and Castiel probably weren't going to get a huge amount of romantic date nights. They would have to take the moments as they came, and search for time with each other within what they were already given.

But understanding it didn't make it hurt any less, and so Gabriel stood up, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing desperately that they were Castiel's. Neither of the other two noticed as Gabriel made his way into his bedroom next door and switched on his laptop, which blinked and whirred for a few seconds before connecting automatically to the wi-fi. Thank God for small favors.

~~~~

When Castiel and Gabriel faced a monster that they weren't sure how to deal with, they researched.

Research was a fucking pain in the ass sometimes, and Gabriel was the first to admit that he absolutely hated it. But it was necessary. He had to do research so that he knew what monsters they went up against, and he had to know what monsters they were up against so that he knew how to fight and kill them, and he had to fight and kill those monsters because of some higher power making that decision for him thousands of years before he was even born. Simple. When he looked at it like that, it was simple.

So this? This they would research like anything else.

~~~~

"Michaels Stores, Inc. is a North American arts and crafts retail chain. It currently operates more than 1262 stores as of May 31, 2014."

Castiel had sat down with Gabriel a while ago, but this was the first time either of them had spoken.

"I don't think that's quite the one you're looking for, Cas," Gabriel groaned. It wasn't like he was having a huge amount of luck himself. His Google results did at least relate to the actual fallen angel, but it seemed as though some TV company was making a show about the guy, and he still didn't think that would be very helpful.

~~~~

Dean sat down. He leaned over to give Castiel a quick kiss on the cheek. Castiel blushed, but he looked otherwise unsurprised by the move. Gabriel dropped his pen so that he could lean down and pull faces under the table.

"How can I help?" Dean asked, and Gabriel thought it was a pretty stupid question, since this was Dean and he was an angel who had most likely never used Google in his life and definitely wouldn't be of any use here.

Then he remembered that Dean might have actually been there back when Lucifer had fallen, and he revised his earlier opinion.

Slightly.

~~~~

None of them were sure how long they worked. The sun rose and it set, just as it always had done, and Castiel and Gabriel Novak were the true vessels of the archangels, just as they always had been. Gabriel slept when he had to sleep, ate when Castiel forced  a candy bar into his hand, and made a lot of notes. It felt like he was accomplishing something when he made notes. Having papers strewn out in front of him on the table looked impressive, like he knew what he was doing, was maybe finding information that could help them or was beginning to formulate a plan. To an outside observer, he seemed to be making progress.

He wasn't making progress.

~~~~

Gabriel stood up. "Let's take a break."

"A break?" Castiel frowned.

"Yeah, a break. Let's drive up to Bobby's for a couple days. He doesn't live far from here. We'll go there and we'll pick up a few cases of beer and we'll watch bad TV all four together and just take some time out for a couple days. Pretty sure we all deserve it right now."

Dean looked at him like he was the biggest idiot to ever walk the planet. "Oh, and you think Lucifer takes breaks? You think he just stops this whole 'end of the world' thing to throw tea parties every few weeks?"

"Well, I'd know better than you, wouldn't I, seeing as I'm the one who's fucking met him recently," Gabriel countered, leaning forwards to get all up in Dean's face. It wasn't like he was even trying to pick a fight. He was just bored. 

At once, both of their heads snapped round to look at Castiel, and Gabriel revised his previous statement. He was totally trying to pick a fight, and the prize was a confused, sleepy hunter with permanent sex hair.

Cas rolled his eyes, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "You know what, Gabe's right. We've been at this for days and we're not making any progress. Perhaps it would be in everyone's best interests to do something else, even if just for a short while."

Gabriel punched the air. "Hell yeah! Let's have a fucking party!"

They did not end up having a party, or making the drive all the way up to Bobby's. But they did order pizza and crack open some beers, cleaning away all their research and instead opening up the table to conversation and laughter.

~~~~

It was a few hours later; nobody was quite sure how many, and Dean was just finishing up a story about watching the Ancient Egyptians figure out how to build some triangle things, or something. The whole story included far too many sexual innuendos directed towards Castiel with a wink, and more pop culture references than any angel should rightfully know. They'd all finished their beers and moved onto shots of whiskey and then finally back to beer when nobody could hold the whiskey bottle steady.

"But human things, Dean, there must be so many human things you have no idea about! Like, sure, you saw the pyramids being built. Big fucking deal. Did you ever play a game of Candy Land? Ever eat marshmallow nachos? Ever go rollerblading? Ever make a fortune teller?"

"A fortune teller?" Dean frowned. "Like going to the future? That I can do."

Gabriel had to laugh at that. "Nah, it's not real. It's a kids' game. Here, let me show you."

All thoughts of a rivalry with Dean gone, Gabriel jumped up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, folding it and twisting it, trying to hold it between his fingers the way he used to back when his fingers were much smaller. He scrawled colors and numbers and random words, completely irrelevant things that were never going to happen to any of them, concentrating hard on fading back into a childhood of making these things in every elementary school he went to, telling the other kids' fortunes to worm his way into their groups of friends.

"Alright, Dean," he finally announced. "Pick a color."

"Lavender," he replied promptly, without even looking at Gabriel.

Gabriel smacked him in the arm, waving the fortune teller in his face. "No, you asshat. One of these colors."

"Oh," Dean blushed, looking down at the fortune teller, just able to make out the words through the drink that was blurring his vision. "I still don't get the point of this, but, uh, blue."

"There's no point, really. It's just a game kids play, you pick colors and numbers and you open and close the paper that many times and then there's stuff written there that's supposed to tell you what'll happen in your future. It's bullshit, of course, but it's a good time." He flipped open the paper, mouthing 'b-l-u-e', and offered Dean the first set of numbers. "Pick a number."

"Sixty-nine."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, cursing himself for putting such a big number on there, but at least Dean hadn't picked 420 or 666. He counted out sixty-nine flips of the fortune teller.

"Another number."

"Four."

Gabriel lifted up the little flap that said '4' and read aloud, in a fake-mysterious voice.

"You will fall for someone unexpected."

There was silence for a few moments, finally broken by Castiel, who chugged the last of his beer and insisted, "Do mine next!"

~~~~

The three of them all sat together, heads lolling from the effort of keeping them upright while so tired and drunk, gazing at each other with stupid grins on their faces. 

"You made a good call, Gabe- Gib- Gay- short one. Ve-ry good call," Dean announced, slurring his words and trying to take another slurp from his beer bottle, but spilling it all over his face and chin. 

He could easily have gloated in that moment, and laughed in Dean's face about how he'd been stupid to want to keep researching. How Castiel would always choose Gabriel over Dean. But in that moment, he felt warm and soft and he was also maybe seeing the beginnings of what Castiel saw in Dean, even though he never had before until this moment.

So he just said, "Dean. Dean, important question. Is this the first time you've had the alcohol?"

Dean nodded solemnly. "Yes, this is indeed the fir-" His words were punctuated with a hiccup. "-st time I have had the alcohol."

Dean was leaning in towards him, fixing him with a fierce gaze that Gabriel had only ever seen trained upon Cas before.

He suddenly felt like the most sober one of the three as he said, "Well, I hope I've helped make it a good first experience."

"I can see why you humans like this stuff," Dean agreed, trying to pick up his beer bottle but actually knocking it over, sending it spilling onto the table and completely soaking the fortune teller. "I had an amazing night. Best in several millennia."

"I'm glad to hear that," Gabriel whispered, and it really did come out in a whisper, because of how close he and Dean were suddenly sitting (he didn't remember shifting his chair closer, but now here they were, their knees almost brushing.

Castiel stood up, his own chair scraping on the floor, and he attempted to tug Dean to his feet. "While I'm very happy to hear that you both have had good evenings, I think it is time for Dean and I to get some rest and to maybe discover what angel hangovers look like."

The two of them left the room, and then Gabriel was alone, no sound around him except for the drip, drip, drip of where Dean's spilled beer was dribbling onto the floor.

~~~~

Castiel led Dean to the room next door and helped him out of his trench coat. He'd never been so frustrated that the angel had to wear so many damn layers, because the buttons on Dean's stiff white shirt were damn near impossible to undo while drunk. But eventually he succeeded in tugging both of their clothes off and tucking the two of them up into the bed, all ready to sleep off the alcohol.

"Goodnight, Dean. Sleep well," Castiel whispered, kissing him on the lips and lying down beside him, but Dean only looked at him in confusion.

"I'm an angel. I don't sleep."

Perhaps it was his addled state of mind, or the fact that recently, Dean had been acting so human in almost every other way, but somehow Castiel had managed to completely forget about that simple fact for a while. But now he remembered, and it worried him. Dean was forever proving himself so much more vulnerable than expected, and leaving him to deal with his first hangover all on his own?

"I don't like thinking of you being alone right now," Castiel confessed, although he knew he was minutes away from passing out no matter what Dean did. "Might not be safe. I mean, what are you going to do while I sleep?"

Dean giggled and leaned over, brushing Castiel's hair off his forehead and smiling, a more open and honest and _human_ smile than Cas had ever seen on his face before.

"I'll watch over you."

~~~~

And Gabriel was drunk, and his defenses were down, so he went to talk to the person he always turned to when he was lonely. The person who he used to be able to guarantee would always answer him, and who now didn't, but he couldn't turn off the instinct.

_Archangel Samuel, can you hear me?_

As usual, he waited, but he didn't expect to hear anything in response. He was right.

_I'm supposed to be a vessel. Lucifer's vessel._

_Don't know why I'm telling you this. If you're even listening, then I'm sure you know already. I'm sure you've always known._

_Is that why you answered me all those years ago?_

_You didn't think I was anything special, did you. All that time I thought you were talking to me because you actually liked me, because you actually thought I was worth something. You were the first person to really ever think that. Should have known that'd never be the case. Why'd I be worth anything? Anything more than what Heaven could use me for?_

_So, what, you were just talking to me to... size me up? Prepare me for what was to come? Make it so I wouldn't stab Lucifer the second I found out there was an archangel in my bed?_

_See, it's not the idea of being an archangel's vessel that bothers me. A lot of people, I imagine it'd freak them out. Like, the idea of being destined to give up all control to this weird-ass winged creature, not being able to make any of their own decisions or have a life aside from flying around as a private jet for one of God's personal warriors. And, sure, put like that it does sound a little crazy. But my life's always been a little crazy. So like I say, it's not the idea of being an archangel's vessel that gets to me._

_It's just the fact that I'm not yours._

_Amen._

Gabriel stood, brushed himself off, and tried to forget that that moment of weakness had ever happened.

And then--

A flutter, fainter than it has ever been before and yet unmistakable as the sound Gabriel had spent all his younger years searching for, his heart jumping for joy every time he got to hear it.

_Sam?_

_Gabriel?_

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, Sam was here, and it wasn't supposed to happen like this. He wouldn't have even bothered with the prayer if he thought that Sam was actually going to show. He might have wished for it, dreamed for it, prayed for it in his most desperate moments, but he definitely hadn't been prepared for the idea that that Sam would one day actually come back. He wasn't ready, even at the same time as he desperately yearned to know what Sam was going to say next, and he cupped his ear, concentrating hard.

_Gabriel. I don't have much time. I'm on the run from Heaven, it's why I haven't been responding. They can trace me when I answer a prayer, or use any kind of archangel power. They're probably closing in as we speak. But I am alive, and I am hiding, and I have not forgotten you. I could never._

_I'm trying to find a way. Some way we can talk, where they can't overhear._

_I'll be in touch soon._

 

**End of Part One**


	7. the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!! Cas mysteriously travels forward in time and meets someone super awesome - himself. Also, he wears panties!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry for the delay. So, so sorry. But this fic is happening, I love it, and even though I kind of had to put it on the back burner because of school and Big Bangs that had deadlines, I will never abandon it. This chapter is 9.5k, so I hope that makes up for it a little??

**Part Two**

 

"I mean it. I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Cas."

"I understand. You're planning to take revenge. Yes, that has indeed been a historically effective solution."

Gabriel groaned. He could feel the sarcasm in his brother's words, thick and heavy across the room. But Cas didn't understand. What the hell was Gabriel doing this whole thing with Crowley for if he wasn't going to take action? There was no point waiting around, staying shut up in motel rooms attempting to look up shady information on the Internet. He wasn't gaining anything by doing that. He had to go after Lucifer himself, or else... that was like letting him win.

"Not revenge. Redemption."

"And you're hoping that I will come with you?" Castiel confirmed.

"Of course! Don't wanna do this alone, Cas. Gotta keep you by my side, and Dean too, the three amigos." He stood up and started pacing, not even realizing he was doing it. He found himself doing that a lot lately, suddenly finding himself in a totally different place from where he last remembered himself being. He just constantly needed to move, even when he hadn't had any blood recently.

Castiel sighed. They had this conversation most days, going round and round in circles - every day, Gabriel insisted he wanted to go _now_ , and every day, Castiel promised him _soon, but not yet_.

Maybe it was time to tell him what was really on his mind.

"Gabriel, I don't think we should go after Lucifer together. If you'd like to, then you should go alone. So long as you stay safe. But based on everything Zachariah has told us - the two of us must be together for the apocalypse to occur. Which means we should stay away from each other. Perhaps for good."

That was enough to make Gabriel stop pacing.

"Cas, I- the three of us- I thought we were making progress, I thought..."

"Yes, we were. We are. But there are more important issues at stake here than our relationship. We're not stronger when we're together, Gabriel. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us - family, or love -they are always going to use it against us. And you know that. So, as much pain as it causes me to say it, I think we are better off apart."

The edges of Gabriel's vision went fuzzy, and for a moment he was sure he was going to pass out, and he wasn't sure if it was caused by withdrawal or by Cas' words. Once he managed to right himself again, he started shoving a few things into his backpack. "Yeah. Alright. I'll be on my way, then."

"Gabriel-" Cas began.

"There's nothing else to say. You've said it all. I would say I'll see you, but, seems like you've already decided that's not happening."

~~~~

"It's a little strange, wouldn't you say? Talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone. Rather like putting peanut butter and jelly on your cheeseburger."

Dean groaned. "This isn't funny, Cas. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes."

"In that case I will hurry up. I'm sure the Colt has been destroyed by now, they'd have to be insane not to get rid of it."

They'd been without Gabriel for a week now, and Cas felt like there was a physical hole inside him. Every time he was in the car, he turned to his right to say something to his brother, only to find the seat empty. Every time he made a food stop, he picked up some candy for Gabriel on instinct, before remembering that he had no reason to buy that anymore.

But he'd got over Gabriel leaving once before. Not completely, but it had started to hurt less, with time. He could do it again. And he and Dean were still making progress. They had a plan, one that Cas was throwing himself into as a distraction.

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the fucking insane task of killing the devil, I reckon this is how we do it."

"Where do we start?"

Dean chuckled. "Where are you now?"

Castiel inspected the room key he'd been given. "Kansas City. Century Hotel, room 113."

"I'll be there immediately."

Cas had only just flopped down on the bed, and he was drained. Right now, the thought of getting up and going right back to work was more than he could take. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep or not - he'd been struggling recently - but he knew that more than anything, he wanted to not move for a while.

"Dean, I haven't slept since Gabriel left. I think it may benefit me to just take four hours or so to rest before we get to work."

"Do you want me to join you?" Castiel could hear the innuendo in Dean's voice, but he could also hear the genuine care it was disguising, and he wanted nothing more than just to curl up in Dean's arms and feel protected, to have some company.

But this was the apocalypse, and it was no time to be selfish. "You should keep working while you can. And find me tomorrow morning."

He hung up before Dean could try to convince him otherwise, and never heard Dean's slightly mournful, "I'll just wait here, then."

~~~~

Castiel woke to his alarm. The clock told him that he'd been asleep for the four hours he'd requested, and yet it felt like he'd been out for a lot longer. Not that he was complaining about that - it was just strange.

He climbed out of bed and got in the shower - he'd set the alarm for ten minutes before Dean was due to arrive, so he was hoping that the angel would be waiting for him when he got out of the bathroom. He hummed as he dried his hair, in good spirits, even more excited than he usually was to see Dean. He wrapped himself in a (frankly unnecessary) towel and opened the door.

The bed was still empty.

Cas frowned to himself and checked his watch. He'd been in there twenty minutes, which was more than enough time for Dean to show his adorable freckled face. And it wasn't like Cas was trying to be clingy, or to hold Dean to a schedule. It was just that Dean had never missed an appointment before, and Cas was getting the ever more pressing sensation that something was up.

This place didn't feel right, somehow. It was too quiet. There was no movement outside the window - in fact, the surrounding area looked as though it had been deserted for years. It unsettled him somewhat.

Disappointed and anxious all at once, Cas tugged off the towel and changed into his normal clothes. He grabbed his gun and tucked it into his waistband before making his way out of the motel.

There was nobody on the front desk as he passed. The whole lobby was covered in a thin layer of dust. By this point, Cas would have bet money that he was the only guest in the place. His suspicions were only confirmed further when he got outside to find that there were no cars in the parking lot, nothing at all to indicate any human presence.

On the main road, turning right meant he was blocked off by a large fallen tree, so he went left. Even without a sidewalk, he wasn't scared. There was no noise, nothing to indicate that there were any cars anywhere in his general vicinity. It was just him, and the hairs prickling on the back of his neck in response to the silence surrounding him.

He got a mile down the road, maybe two, before he encountered anything at all of note - but then he found himself in front of a large metal fence, three times as tall as he was, with a sign slapped across the front.

CROATOAN VIRUS HOT ZONE. NO ENTRY BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND, AUGUST 1, 2014, KANSAS CITY.

Castiel's eyes widened. 2014? He couldn't be reading that right. And Croatoan? He and Gabriel had dealt with that before - way back in the day, long before he'd met Dean or had to deal with any of this apocalypse bullshit. Back when it had just been him, Gabriel, and any case they could reach without taking their foot off the gas pedal. And it hadn't been a fun thing to deal with back then, so Cas couldn't imagine that he was going to enjoy it now. Especially not alone.

But still. He didn't really have a lot of options. And if he wanted answers...

He scaled the fence, scrambling up as fast as he could and swinging himself over the top, landing in a heap on the other side. He landed a little harder than he meant to and his knees throbbed, and he had to stumble over to the nearest solid object for some kind of support. The object in question was made of hot, rusted metal, but that was still a pale, shimmery gold in some places.

Cas frowned. He only knew one thing that was that shade of gold. One thing, that he'd seen every day, ever since he was born.

Ignoring the pain in his knees, he took a few steps back. His own car lay there, partially obscured by tree branches, jammed up against the fence. It was dented all over, one of the tires had deflated, and the front window as well as one of the mirrors had been smashed. Castiel's heart ached for it, and he was furious at whoever had allowed his baby to get in that kind of a state.

He climbed into the car and attempted to start it up, but nothing happened. The engine just let out a vague whisper before going completely silent, and Cas gave the dashboard a pat, trying to comfort it. "It's alright," he managed in a quiet voice, even though it was quite clearly not alright. He was in a strange place with no clue how he got there, he was without his brother and his angel, and now he was without his car.

"Excuse me? What are you doing in my car?"

Cas jumped a foot in the air when he heard a voice floating right through the open window. He whirled around and his eyes fell on--

_No._

He had to be dreaming right now. He was used to weird, but this? This was a new level, even for him. He didn't just - stumble upon versions of himself wearing a tunic and a spaced out expression. "Who the fuck are you?" he growled.

The guy who was apparently his doppelganger looked surprisingly unconcerned. "My name is Castiel Novak. Under normal circumstances I would say that I was hallucinating again. However, Dean told me that he saw someone scaling the fence to the camp and that I should look into it, and therefore you are not only visible to me."

Cas was momentarily distracted from the fact that he apparently had a doppelganger who was a drug taking hippie. "Dean's here?"

"Of course. Dean is our leader here at Camp Chitaqua. He is always here, except, of course, when he is out on some kind of mission."

Cas frowned. How could Dean always be here when just a few hours ago--

Well, fuck.

The last piece suddenly slid into place and Cas sat there, blinking in horror. "What year is it, Castiel?"

"Last I checked it was 2014," the other version of him - the _future_ version of him - said unconcernedly. "I don't claim to always be conscious of the passing of time, but I would be surprised if we had moved into a different year without my noticing."

"Right," Cas nodded, jumping out of the car. "Take me to Dean. Please. I need to see him."

The future version of Castiel began to stroll away from the fence. "Of course. Dean would undoubtedly be upset if there was an intruder in the camp and he did not get a crack at him. I'm sure he will be very interested to see you, especially given that you and I look very much alike."

"Look very much alike? Castiel... we are alike. I'm Castiel Novak too. From 2009. I don't know how the hell I got to be five years in the future, I don't know who put me here, and I certainly don't know how I'm going to get back to my own time, but... I'm you, and that's all I know."

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head as though he were a fond parent faced with his young child's fantasies. "Impossible. I know the likeness is uncanny, but..."

Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, harder than he intended to. Part of him almost expected to feel the pain in his own shoulder, but he didn't. How did this work exactly? "You don't remember this? Doesn't exactly seem like something you'd forget. Think back. You never went into the future, you never saw this before it all happened..."

Castiel's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "That was a memory?"

"What else-"

"I always assumed it was something my mind had conjured up. The idea that I would truly meet the past version of myself at some point was, truly, beyond my expectations."

"Yeah. Tell me about it," was all Cas could come up with in response.

Castiel hummed a tune, the same one that Cas had just been humming while he was in the shower. The similarity between the two of them, even in a tiny thing like that, after all this time, struck him and he felt a strange kind of ache in his chest. 

"So, what?" Cas asked, more to break the silence than anything else, so that he didn't have to think too hard about how fucked up this all was. "You're just going to take me at my word that I'm me? That I'm you? You don't want to spray me with holy water or anything? Because I know me - which means I know you - and that's definitely what I would do."

Castiel shrugged and patted his empty pockets. "You know yourself, yes, but that does not equate to knowing me. You'll change a lot in the next few years, Cas. I haven't carried holy water since... oh, I can't remember when. I really feel that my instinct are by far my most powerful hunting tool by now. And you? Yes, there is no doubt in my mind that you are who you claim to be."

"You're messing with me," Cas stated firmly. "Instincts? That's not me, I'd never-"

"No, but as I said before, you and I are very different," Castiel replied, shutting him up.

"Some things don't change. Not that much."

Castiel sighed. "Fine. In that case, just to humor you. Prove you're me. Tell me something only I would know."

Cas raised an eyebrow. This was a game that he could play, without a doubt. He wondered for a moment what he should say - something he'd never told Gabriel, or Dean - and then it came to him.

"Rhonda Hurley. We were, say, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink, and satiny. And you and I... we kind of liked it."

Castiel's face split into a wide smile. "An excellent answer."

"Thankyou." Cas rolled his eyes. "So, what specifically is going on here? Croatoan virus, is that what the sign said?"

"Indeed. Around two years ago it began taking over the major cities. People became monsters, others, such as myself and Dean, formed camps in safe locations to keep away from it. The world is destroying itself, and there's nothing any of us can do."

Cas frowned. "You keep mentioning Dean. What about Gabriel? Is he here?"

Castiel froze. For a moment, he stopped walking. "The way I hear it, there was some form of showdown in Detroit. I don't believe Gabriel survived." 

"The hell do you mean, some kind of showdown?" Cas scowled, glaring at his future self. "Why weren't you with him?"

"Gabriel and I... it's been five years or so since we spoke."

\--

The bombshell about Gabriel kept Cas occupied the rest of the way to find Dean. He knew he'd kicked Gabe out, but still... they hadn't called each other, not once, Gabriel hadn't come back to find him? That was even more time than they'd spent apart while Gabriel had been at Stanford, and that had felt like a lifetime...

"Alright, team! I know you're all tired, but croats don't get tired, so you all have to power through it. We're doing another training drill. And this time, no knives. If the worst happens and you get caught without a weapon, you gotta fight them off for as long as you can, stop yourself getting infected, til someone can come help you."

Cas recognized the voice immediately - the words were unfamiliar, but the timbre, the intonation, were unmistakably the angel he loved.

Dean glanced around, and his stern face softened when he caught sight of Cas. He turned back to the group. "Anna, you're in charge of training for the rest of the afternoon. Work 'em hard, then hit the showers. I gotta talk to our resident fugitive."

Dean jogged over to Cas, sweaty and tired, his clothes looking like he'd been running through a muddy forest all day. "How's it going, Cas?"

"It's... going," Cas replied, squinting at Dean. Something was different. He couldn't quite place it.

Dean frowned at him, his expression suspicious, and he took a step back. "You're not Cas. You think I'm dumb enough not to tell? You're an impostor." He reached into his belt, drawing a knife and advancing on him.

Castiel's future self stepped out from behind a tree, running towards Dean to get in between his knife and Cas. "I can explain that one."

Dean froze, and he gave the future Castiel the same suspicious once-over before declaring, "You are Cas. Care to explain what's going on?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "We don't entirely know ourselves. From everything I have been able to gather, this is me, from the year 2009, sent forward in time, for reasons we have been unable to determine yet. But he is certainly not a threat, and I dread to think what problems killing people might cause.

Dean narrowed his eyes, but tucked the knife back into his belt. "2009? What was happening then?"

"I've not long found out I'm supposed to be Michael's vessel."

"I've asked him questions. He's legit."

Dean still didn't look entirely convinced, but he also wasn't trying to attack Cas, which he had to accept as a victory. He changed the subject, gesturing around the camp.

"What's all this about training drills?"

"Everyone here's gotta be tough. Soldiers. I get them running when they wake up, wrestling in the mornings to build up muscles, drills against fake Croats in the afternoons, exploring in the evenings to expand our territory and look for new human recruits, and then night patrol in shifts to make sure nobody gets in who shouldn't," Dean explained.

"They don't rest?"

"Croats don't rest."

Cas stared at Dean, and he almost recognized him. He had the same bright green eyes, the same freckles spattered across his cheeks that Cas wanted to kiss individually, the same golden blond hair that shone like the sun whenever the light caught it. But the expression on his face changed everything. It unsettled Cas far, far more than he'd have liked to admit.

"Dean, what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Dean's hand clenched into a fist, and he looked suspiciously at Cas, as though trying to find an excuse to lash out at him.

"That's exactly what I mean. It's like you've lost all your compassion. What happened to the Dean who was trying to figure out how to be human?"

"Oh, yeah, that. Yeah, he figured it out. Figured it out a little too well, in fact."

"What do you mean?"

Dean grabbed Cas' arm, glaring at him, his eyes wild and scary. "It means I'm fucking human, Cas. I fell. I'm not an angel, I got no powers. I lost my wings one fucking feather at a time and I had to feel myself get weaker and weaker every day as the world out there got worse and worse, until I stopped being able to do a thing about it. And I'm not saying things are easy for everyone else, Cas, because it's pretty clear that they're not. But there ain't a person out there who's got a damn clue how I feel. So, yeah, maybe I don't have as much "compassion" as I used to. But that works both ways."

"You..." Cas tried to respond. There weren't many things he knew for sure, but one of those things was that Dean was an angel, his angel, that he could teleport to him on a moment's notice and heal any injury he might get, but now... 

"Yep. Didn't mean to shock you, except, you know, you did ask. So now I'm just doing whatever I can to protect people. And it involves a lot more guns and a lot more shooting than it used to, but you know what? It's all I got left. And I don't need your judgement for that. Get enough of that from present you."

\--

"So. Two thousand nine," Castiel mused, a faraway look in his eyes - even more so than usual - as he reminisced. "Wasn't long after you and I met. Not long after Dean and I started..."

Future Castiel had taken present day Cas to his tent, and it was nothing like what Cas had expected. Instead of the simplicity of the motel rooms he was used to, or the minimalism of the rest of the camp, the tent was hung with brightly colored chiffon drapes and sparkly beads. Incense was burning in a corner, and there was a luxurious king sized bed. It was hard for Cas to imagine changing so much in five years that he'd want all of this, and yet, the evidence was right in front of his eyes.

Cas couldn't miss what his future self was referring to, and he was almost afraid to ask the obvious question. "Do you still-"

"Oh, yeah," Castiel cut in with a chuckle. "All the time. Guy gets jealous, you know? Sees how many people I get in here. Knows he was the first. Wants to let everyone know he still has a claim." He pulled at the neck of his tunic, exposing several dark hickeys just below his collarbone, winking at Cas.

Cas swallowed, and he could imagine exactly what it felt like to have Dean sink his teeth deep into his neck and suck, hard. He'd experienced it, and recently, too. But he knew that his Dean would always hold back at least a little, too careful not to hurt him, too concerned with how fragile humans were to really let himself go. The Dean here, the Dean who was human, who'd thrown aside his own emotions to become a soldier... this Dean might be more likely to let himself go, to put all his strength into taking Cas.

"How could he not?" Cas whispered.

"Yeah, you're right. I've been with almost everyone at this camp by now. But Dean and I do share a more profound bond."

"Almost everyone?" Cas couldn't hold back his surprise. This was him. Five years from now him, but still, it didn't feel like the kind of thing he would do.

"I mean, I'm not gonna force anyone. They're lining up anyway. Some of them don't want to at first, but then after they've been here for a few months, hear some people talking about me like I'm the only good thing left here... well, then, some of them change their minds. And even the ones who never want sex still feel... drawn towards my tent. Just to spend time here. Must be one of the only places left in the world where nobody has to worry about the Croats."

"So that's what you're doing? Trying to provide a kind of... safe haven, for people?" Cas couldn't deny what his future self was saying. He found himself inching closer to the other man, pulled in by some kind of unstoppable force, and somehow, the closer he got the more of himself he could see in Castiel. Even if it was just the tiniest things, like the way his lower forehead crinkled when he concentrated, or the ever so slight tilt of his head that Cas knew he mimicked all the time. It was good to see these things, and to realize that no matter how much he had changed - would change - in five years, he was still recognizable, somehow.

Castiel laughed without humor. "Safe haven? You have too high an opinion of me. Not that I blame you. I suppose that five years ago, I was doing everything I could to save people. But now? Now I'm just doing whatever I can to get by. Trying to make the most of what little time I have left."

Cas knew he should have been repulsed by the words, rejected them as not his words, run off and done everything he could to stop himself from becoming that person. But he was hypnotized by the idea, the prospect of doing something for himself for once in his life.

Maybe quite literally for himself...

He drew closer and closer, and all he could see was Castiel, that face that was so familiar and yet worn down with an age of experience that Cas hadn't lived through yet, and he was hypnotized. He parted his lips when they were only inches apart, and Castiel did the same, so Cas felt almost as though he was looking into a mirror - even though he knew that Castiel was making his own, conscious choices.

They were so close now, and Cas could feel their breath mingling together and hanging, hot and heavy in the space left between them, and he almost felt high on a combination of that and the smell of incense still burning in the background. He let his eyes flutter closed, trusting Castiel, as the older, more experienced one, to guide and two of them, and then--

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Cas jerked back and turned to see Dean in the doorway, a shotgun in his hands, although thankfully it wasn't being aimed at either of them, and it looked like Dean was just carrying it back after a day's work doing... Cas didn't like to think about what.

"Dean, I'm sorry," he blurted, though thinking about it, he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be sorry for. 

"Relax, Dean," Castiel chuckled, getting up and strolling over to him. "You left me alone with myself. How was I supposed to resist?"

Dean rolled his eyes and put the gun down on the ground. "Apparently nobody in this camp is safe from you, not even yourself."

"And yet the second you get home, I put everything else on hold and get up to come over here and talk to you. What does that tell you?"

"That you respect your leader?" Dean suggested.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Authority has no meaning, leadership is a social construct, and I don't take orders from you, or from anyone. Except, of course, when I do." He purred that last bit, leaning in close and tilting his head up ever so slightly to meet Dean's eyes. 

Dean frowned. "So, you're just gonna leave your past self hanging? That seems a little rude of you. Thought you prided yourself on giving everyone else the best experience possible."

"Oh, I do," Castiel murmured, inching closer to Dean in a dance he'd clearly led hundreds of times before. "But today? I think I'm going to need your help with that."

Cas had to suck in a few deep breaths. There was no way his future self had just implied what it sounded like he'd implied.

"My help?" 

"But of course. You remember what past me likes, don't you? You may be human now, but you've still got that angelic memory. I know you haven't forgotten our first time."

Dean smirked. "I remember. I gagged you, didn't I? Stuck my tie in your mouth so that you couldn't make any noise, then used you for whatever I wanted. How could I forget?"

"And then you spoke Enochian. Got so caught up in the moment that you went back into your native language for a while. Just once. It never happened again. And you never did tell me what it meant."

"I remember the night, but I don't remember specifically what I said," Dean shrugged, looking shiftily in the opposite direction.

"You're not as good a liar as you think you are, Dean. Perhaps I should convince you to tell me. Or, better yet..." Castiel raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Cas. "Maybe I should let him convince you to tell me."

Cas shifted on the floor of the tent, feeling his cock ache as it hardened inside his pants. This shouldn't be right. He shouldn't be getting turned on because of himself, no matter how hot it was that future him had so much experience, so many offers, and yet was still choosing to stay here...

He glanced up, and he locked eyes with Dean, and he saw Dean's face change. He could almost see the memories that he was sure were flashing in front of Dean's eyes, and for a moment the two of them were concentrating so intently on each other that they didn't even notice Castiel leave the room, ducking through a beaded curtain and reappearing a few seconds later.

"Cas, do you want to come through here for a moment? I promise it'll be worth it."

Cas stood and followed himself through the curtain, knowing that he had no real choice in the matter. His future self had lived through this night, he knew exactly what was going to happen here, after all. Cas' job was just to follow along with whatever Future Him told him was going to happen, and to trust implicitly that Castiel and Dean were going to make this good for him.

He did trust Dean. He trusted Dean with his life and with so much more, and he couldn't see that ever changing.

Himself? Himself, he didn't trust quite so much.

Castiel held up a small strip of silk and raised his eyebrows in invitation. It was dark blue, the same sort of color as Dean's tie, edged in soft lace. He knew immediately what it was. They weren't the same as the ones he'd worn when he were nineteen - these ones were designed especially for him. Or at least, for someone with the same anatomy as him, though it wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest if Dean had snapped them up himself before he'd lost his powers.

Cas stretched out a hand and took the panties, which were impossibly soft against his skin.

"Strip. Put them on. And I can guarantee that the second Dean sees you in those, he'll tell you anything you want to know, sweet cheeks."

With that, Castiel disappeared again, gliding through the beaded curtain.

Cas felt like a kid who'd been left out in the cold by two of his older, cooler friends. He supposed that in a way, he was. But he was also one of very, very few people in the world who would ever get an opportunity like the one he had here, so...

He stripped off his jeans, plaid shirt and plain grey boxers as fast as he could, but when he picked up the panties, he touched them gently, almost reverently, not wanting to do anything that might damage them. He stepped into them and closed his eyes so that he could concentrate for a moment on the delicate feel of the silk against his skin, dropping his hand to his own cock, cupping himself and giving it a small squeeze. The material added something extra to the feeling, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning out loud.

"Starting without us? Have you not learned how to be patient yet? I suppose that makes sense... I remember being you, I didn't have much experience, I couldn't wait for anything either." Cas wondered if Castiel had heard the moan or if he just remembered himself, unable to resist stroking his own cock before he went back out to the both of them.

There was no mirror in the room, so Cas couldn't really appreciate the sight of himself in the tiny silk and lace garment that fit so perfectly against his skin. He supposed he'd have to wait five years to get the pleasure of seeing that.

He parted the curtain and stepped back out into the main room.

Dean's lips parted in surprise and arousal. For the first time since Cas had seen him here, there was something in his eyes other than blind determination.

"So, Dean," Castiel whispered. "Are you going to tell me what you said to the two of us? All those years ago?"

Dean stared unashamedly at Cas, his eyes raking up and down his body before coming to rest on the bulge in Cas' panties. "I think you might have to work a little harder to convince me," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Cas could do that. Even though he was a little nervous to be here with a version of himself who had five years' more experience figuring out exactly what Dean liked, Cas still knew what he was doing when it came to Dean, and maybe there'd be things that his future self had forgotten about.

He darted over to where Dean stood and cupped his cheek in one hand, leaning in ever so slowly to press their lips together. His tongue flicked out along Dean's lower lip as his other hand sneaked its way up the back of Dean's shirt, dragging his nails slowly down Dean's back.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Cas' waist from behind, kissing and sucking on his neck. Cas' hands faltered, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing for a moment, too lost in the sensation. But then he remembered, and he tugged on Dean's shirt, pulling it over his head and then pressing his bare chest against Dean's, so that Cas was sandwiched between the other two, his silk panties trapped between two pairs of jeans.

He rocked back and forth, his cock coming into contact with Dean's when he moved forwards, and his ass pressing against Castiel's cock when he moved backwards. He could feel the both of them harden against him, and it felt good to know that he was the one with the power in this situation, that he was the one they both desperately wanted.

But as much fun as it was, he thought it might be even more fun if they all had their clothes off.

He kissed a line along Dean's cheek and tugged on his earlobe with his teeth, making Dean groan. Then, Cas pulled away and stepped back. "Both of you. Strip."

They both complied immediately, rushing to get their clothes of as quickly as possible. Cas looked between them, taking in both of their naked forms, their cocks hard and bobbing in front of them. He licked his lips, raking his eyes up and down. "Now, which one of you should I take care of first?"

Dean stepped forwards and gave Cas a soft, lingering kiss, his tongue tracing over Cas' lips. "I think it should be me."

"And why's that?" Cas challenged.

"Because..." Dean gasped, breathless. "The first thing I said in Enochian was that you're the most beautiful of all the humans."

Cas smirked, trimphant. "For that, you get a reward." He pushed Dean down onto the bed and crawled on top of him, kissing down his chest. He was definitely more toned than he had been five years ago - must have been all the fighting - but he still had that distinctive pudge in his stomach that Cas loved, and Cas couldn't stop himself from sinking his teeth in, leaving a mark there.

Dean's breath caught and he fisted his hands in the sheets, biting his lip. "Cas, please-"

Cas stopped, his mouth barely an inch away from Dean's cock. "Please what, Dean?"

"Suck me, Cas, please. You, wearing those, it's too much, don't wanna wait..."

Cas breathed out, hot air hitting the head of Dean's cock and making him shiver. "I know you're used to being the one in charge round here, Dean, but right now I think it's my turn. Maybe I want to be the one to get off first."

"I'd be happy to help out with that," Castiel replied, climbing onto the bed next to the two of them. "You. Sit on his thighs. Give him a good view."

Cas obliged, perching himself on Dean's thighs so that Dean could easily see the bulge trying to rip through the satin panties, and the tiny wet spot his precome had left at the front. Castiel sat crosslegged next to him, trailing a finger down Cas' chest until it reached his cock. He dragged that finger ever so slowly back and forth over the bulge, and Cas moaned, tilting his head and arching his back. He wanted more, but he also wanted to put on a show for Dean, make him jealous that Cas was getting touched and he wasn't.

Dean reached out and took his cock in one hand, and Castiel glared at him. "Oh no you don't. You're going to lie there and wait until we decide you're ready. Got that?"

Dean made a noise that could only be described as a whine, and dropped his hand back to his side.

Castiel closed his hand around Cas' cock and squeezed, and this wasn't going to take long at all. Cas wanted to savor it, the combination of that being his own hand rubbing his cock, the hand that knew exactly how he liked to be touched - but at the same time, having the element of surprise, never precisely knowing what that hand was going to do next. But Castiel was just too good, and he had probably been working up to this, preparing for it, for years. Cas knew he couldn't last.

"Stop," he panted, wriggling away from Castiel. "Stop or I'm gonna-"

Castiel pulled his hand back immediately. "You don't want to come yet?"

"Wanna suck Dean first," he breathed, looking Dean right in the eyes. "Want my mouth on you, just the way it used to be for you years ago. Want you to know that this mouth hasn't tasted anyone else since I first tasted you, cause I knew then that your cock was the only one I ever wanted. Want you to use me and then come in my mouth, Dean, so you'll remember this even when I'm back in my own time..." He moaned, just thinking about it - and then smirked and added, "Only if you tell me the second thing you said in Enochian, of course."

"God, you're evil," Dean groaned. "I've missed that. Second thing was - you are so much more than how you see yourself."

"I'm not sure I agree with that. But at the same time, my mouth could be put to better use than disagreeing with you." Cas straddled Dean's legs again and bent down to lick a stripe up his cock, his tongue swirling around the head.

"Did you just flirt with yourself for him?" Castiel asked, amused.

Cas pulled off. "Don't you have better things you could be doing with your mouth, too?"

"You are a very intelligent man, Castiel Novak."

Castiel crawled up the bed and claimed Dean's lips in a hard, bruising kiss, sucking on his lower lip, just as Cas slid his lips halfway down Dean's cock and hollowed out his cheeks. The two Castiels weren't connected, they couldn't tell what the other was about to do, but they were so similar that it almost felt like they were in sync with their movements, both of their mouths working Dean and pulling him closer to the edge. Dean moaned into Castiel's mouth and dripped precome across Cas' tongue, and knowing that both the people touching him right now were his boyfriend was almost more than he could take.

Dean jerked his hips up into Cas' mouth - apparently he hadn't learned how to control himself in the intervening five years, no matter how else he'd changed. He fisted a hand in Cas' hair and forced him down. Dean's cock jammed itself down Cas' throat and he swallowed hard around it, sucking it all down - and then Cas pulled off, knowing that a now human Dean didn't have the strength to hold him down.

"You want to fuck my throat like that?" Cas rasped, his voice already sounding hoarse. "I'll let you if you tell me the next thing you said."

Dean's cock blurted out more precome just at the thought of fucking Cas' mouth, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself under control for long enough to speak. "Yeah. Okay, it was - you deserve to be saved, a million times over."

Cas was never going to believe that, no matter what, but that didn't seem important right now. All that was important was diving down and taking in as much of Dean's cock as possible, his tongue lapping at the head every time Dean yanked on his hair to pull him off, his throat closing around Dean's cock and almost making Cas gag every time Dean forced him back down. And upon hearing Dean's translation for the first time, there was a wrecked-sounding moan from Castiel, who pressed himself up against Dean's thigh and began rocking frantically against it.

He reached out a hand and grasped Cas' cock through the panties again, and Cas choked out a moan that sent vibrations all the way along Dean's cock, and from there it was pretty much over. Dean cried out Cas' name, and neither of them were sure which one he was referring to, but it didn't matter. Both of them sped up their movements, Castiel moving his hand down to cup and squeeze Cas' balls as he rubbed faster and faster against Dean's thigh, Cas moaning around Dean's cock over and over again as he sucked and slurped around Dean's pulsing cock. It was only a few more hot, dizzy thrusts before Dean was exploding inside Castiel's mouth, letting out a high pitched cry.

Cas swallowed it all down and swirled his tongue over Dean's cock to clean it, and Castiel groaned Dean's name and dug the nails of his free hand into Dean's waist as he came in hot pulses all over his thigh. Even while coming, he never once stopped working Cas' cock, keeping his hand on top of the panties so that Cas could feel the slide of the blue silk against him.

When Dean caught his breath, he gasped, "Last thing I said was... I can already feel myself falling for you."

That was enough to send Cas hurtling over the edge, his hips jerking forwards one final time into Castiel's hand before he came, hard, leaving a huge, shiny wet spot on the front of his panties, which were probably ruined forever. Still, assuming he was able to get back to his own time, maybe the other two could keep them as a souvenir.

He melted into the pillows, panting, and Dean and Castiel pressed close to him, one on either side, each wrapping an arm over his waist.. It felt like a practiced move, like inviting a third person into their bed was hardly a rare thing for them. Cas tried his best not to think about that and to focus on appreciating having warm bodies next to him for the first time in a long time.

The three of them lay in a comfortable silence for a while before Dean looked over at Cas and laughed. "Your hair looks like it's been used to rake leaves."

"Oh yeah, and whose fault is that?" Cas tried to sound angry, but he was in too much bliss to care - especially when Dean leaned forwards to give him a soft kiss.

"So, is there anything else you want to ask the two of us? While you've got us here. Once in a lifetime opportunity, as you can imagine."

Cas knew that there were fifty different questions he should be asking, about Gabriel and Michael and Lucifer and Zachariah and everything he could possibly do to to avoid the world ending up like it was right now. But Castiel had been right. This moment, and this tent, they weren't a part of what was going on outside. And to bring thoughts of the apocalypse in here... would ruin it somehow, would ruin one of the last places on Earth where people didn't have to worry about such things.

So he just shook his head, and pulled the two of them in close. Sandwiched between them, warm on all sides, two heavy, comforting arms draped over him, he felt safe, even though he knew that he shouldn't.

But all too soon, the moment was broken. The tent flap was pulled back, and a girl poked her head inside. She didn't look at all surprised to see Castiel lying naked with two other men, nor did she try to look away. All she said was, "Dean, Lucifer's been located. You're needed. Immediately."

Dean leapt to his feet, breaking the moment. "Thirty seconds and I'm all yours." He started pulling on his clothes, loading himself up with weapons as though he'd done this a thousand times before. Castiel followed suit at a more leisurely pace, and Cas peeled off the panties, grabbing whatever he could find on the floor that seemed to be vaguely his size before following the other two out of the tent.

The cold air hit Cas' face, and he felt like he was just waking up. The reality of the situation he was in flooded back to him, and he was surprised at himself for what he'd just done in there - having sex, focusing on himself, taking time away when there were people out here who needed his help.

It was starting to make sense to him how he might start to become his future self, and that scared him most of all.

~~~~

Dean took charge the second they got to the location. "Lucifer is here. Now. I know the block and I know the building."

"Oh, good—it's right in the middle of a hot zone," Castiel, ever the apathetic sidekick, countered.

"Crawling with Croats, yeah. You saying my plan is reckless?" 

"Are you saying we, uh, walk in straight up the driveway, past all the demons and the Croats, and we shoot the devil?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant', maybe."

They were fighting like an old married couple, and Cas had to chuckle at that. He supposed they were the closest thing this world would ever get to one of those.

The chuckle got him noticed, and Castiel turned to Cas. "I'm not sure you should come."

Cas raised an eyebrow. He had absolutely no idea how to win an argument against a future self that already remembered all his arguments and how to counter them, but dammit he had to at least try. "Look, I don't know why I'm here... or why I'm now, I suppose... but I was sent here for a reason. I should come with you to try to figure out what that reason is."

"If anything happened to you, who knows the effect it could have on the world?"

"Because the world's so great as it is, you mean?"

Dean wrapped a protective arm around Cas' waist and glared at Castiel. "He's coming."

Castiel blinked, frowning at the arm's placement, and Dean just shrugged. "What? I like past you."

Castiel shrugged and wandered off aimlessly towards some nearby trees, and Cas turned to Dean. "Why are you taking me? Not that I'm complaining, but..."

Dean sighed. "You're coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see your brother."

"Gabriel? I thought he was dead." Just saying the words brought a lump to Cas' throat, just the thought was enough to make him determined to ensure that this future would never come to pass.

Dean didn't sugarcoat it, or give Cas any warning. He just said, "Gabriel didn't die in Detroit. He said yes."

It was said so matter-of-factly that it took Cas a moment to figure out what Dean was talking about. "You mean-"

"That's right. The big 'yes'. To the devil. Lucifer's wearing him to the prom."

Cas' eyes widened, maybe in surprise or maybe in naivete. "Why would he do that?"

"Haven't a clue. But, fuck, I miss that kid. Sure, we had our issues, but when it came down to it... I tried to save him, Cas. I figured out what he was going to do and I went after him. But by the time I got there, Lucifer had already taken him over, and his eyes had gone... not black. Just dead."

"I... I can't," Cas shook his head. "I can't think about that."

Dean ignored him. "That's when you turned to drugs. Well, runs in the family, I guess. You were smoking anything you could get your hands on to try to forget about your brother, Lucifer was gaining in power, and I had to start fighting him. So I got to recruiting people. And that's how we got in this godawful mess." 

Cas blinked. "You're saying all this is m-my fault?"

"I'm just saying that I need you to see this. I know how much it's gonna hurt you, cause I've seen you go through it before. But you gotta see it, Cas, and then somehow you gotta find your way home so you can do things differently, and say yes to Michael."

"I can't say yes, it'll start the apocalypse!" Cas cried out.

"The apocalypse is doing a damn good job of starting itself, kid."

"Dean. There's got to be another way."

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. But the one thing I do know? Earlier today, you said I'd lost all my compassion. Well, here's some compassion for you. Your brother's got the devil inside him, and he can feel everything. Every time Lucifer kills someone, Gabriel's got a front row seat. He knows it's his hands doing that. He can't sleep, can't control anything. There's nothing he can ever do to stop it."

Cas grimaced at the idea. "Dean, stop-"

"So I'm not asking you to do this for me. I'm asking you to do it for Gabriel. Say yes to Michael, so that you can end this fight, once and for all."

Cas opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he heard a voice behind him. "Hello, Cas."

~~~~

"I'm sorry. It must be painful, speaking to me in this shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be."

Cas stared at Lucifer, and he knew that it wasn't his brother. With Lucifer inside him he walked wrong, he smiled wrong, his eyes didn't have the same kind of mischievous sparkle that suggested he saw the world in a slightly more interesting way than most people did. But even so, the vessel was a constant reminder that Lucifer had won. That he'd beaten Gabriel, and that Gabriel was no longer able to see anything at all.

Cas closed his eyes, focusing on Dean, doing his best to project his thoughts back into the past. 

_Dean. Real Dean, because I know the difference, and I know you'd never let yourself become the Dean that I saw today. If you're there, wherever you are and whatever time you're in when you're hearing this - I need to get back to October 1, 2009. I need to change things._

_Amen._

"Well, that's a little redundant. You can pray for your angel to save you now - and, yes, I can hear everything that you're saying. I hear prayers too, remember? But you can see where you'll end up in five years' time." Lucifer glanced over towards the trees. "There's no saving you. Not from me. Certainly not from yourself."

Dean didn't show.

_Dean. I have to get away from here. This isn't - this can't be the only way. Help me. Please._

"Perhaps he's already given up on you. I wouldn't be surprised. There's only one angel who could ever truly save you."

Dean still didn't show. Cas summoned every tiny bit of courage he had left.

"You should just kill me now. Or I promise, I will find a way to kill you. I won't ever stop trying."

"I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Gabriel. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up... here."

_Dean._

_Kimber._

There was a flutter of wings. Cas' vision blurred for a moment, Lucifer vanished, and all of a sudden he was on a roadside, next to the Continental, restored back to its former glory rather than the rusty beaten-up version he'd seen the other day. For a moment Cas wasn't sure whether to hug Dean or the car first.

He settled on Dean, but it was a close thing.

"You came," Cas mumbled stupidly into the shoulder of Dean's trench coat, because for a moment there he'd really thought that Dean was going to abandon him in the future.

"Course I did, Cas. I always come when you call."

"Call..." The word reminded Castiel of something. "There's someone I need to call."

"Oh, right, I get it. No 'Thanks for rescuing me,' it's just 'Here, let me go call somebody else.'" Dean had apparently been brushing up on his sarcasm while Cas had been away.

Cas chuckled and placed a hand on Dean's arm, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Don't ever change."

~~~~

"Gabriel. Pick up your goddamn phone."

It rang and it rang and Cas was just about to give up, when- "What do you want?"

Cas had to bite back a sarcastic comment of his own. That wasn't what he was here to say. He didn't want to alienate Gabriel any further.

"I just- how are you doing?"

"Well, I could lie to make you feel better, but I won't. Shit. I'm doing shit."

He sounded it, too. His voice was completely wrecked, cracking on every other word, and even through the phone Cas could tell that he was exhausted. 

Cas wanted to ask Gabriel what was wrong, but there wasn't time, because if Lucifer was telling the truth then they had less than five years left, and every second Cas didn't tell Gabe the truth was another moment he was wasting.

"I just called to tell you that... I don't even know how to say this, Gabriel, I don't know where to begin. But being with you is more important to me than this apocalypse, than anything in the world. And I feel like I'm losing you right now. I don't know what's going on with you and I'm scared. But I know a few months ago, back when Zachariah wiped our memories and we worked at Sandover - even though we were being manipulated back then, those are still some of the best recent memories I have."

Cas couldn't hear anything from the other end of the line, but Gabriel hadn't hung up, so he continued. "I know that you think all of my good recent memories are of Dean, but they're not. They're both of you. And I don't want one without the other. So if you would consider coming back to me... I promise you that I will no longer try to shut you out. And I will stop denying... the things that I was happy to admit back when I didn't know who you were."

Gabriel was silent. Cas could hear his ragged breathing down the phone, so he knew that he was still there and still alive, but words didn't come even after several minutes of waiting.

"Where are you? Tell me where you are and I'll come pick you up," Cas finally said, because he didn't need an answer, not yet. He'd just needed Gabriel to know.

Finally speaking, albeit shakily, Gabriel gave the address of a fancy hotel not far from them. Cas didn't ask questions. He just drove, and he was there within two hours.

Gabriel was waiting for him out in the parking lot, crouched down on the kerb as though he had been there ever since he'd hung up the phone. He looked even smaller than he usually did, and his face was pale as he climbed into the Continental next to Cas. He opened his mouth, but he seemed to be struggling to speak, whether because his throat hurt or because he didn't know what to say.

"You can sleep if you want," Cas suggested, not knowing when Gabriel had last had a chance to do that, and Gabriel nodded gratefully, reaching for the door once more.

Cas shook his head, placing a hand on Gabriel's arm. Gabriel turned to frown at him, and Cas gently guided his brother's head down into his lap, so that Gabriel could lay across the front seat instead of the back. Cas didn't say anything, but he kept a hand tangled in Gabriel's hair as he drove, stroking gently, and before long Gabriel's breathing had softened and his body relaxed for the first time in far too long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has two plot holes!! First off - who sent Cas into the future, and why?? Second off... well, I'll see if anyone else can figure that out. But either way, they will both be resolved before the story ends.


	8. changing channels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Gabriel star in television shows, everything is super meta, and Sam finally reveals his identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYY. So this is a totally important episode, and this chapter and the next one are probably where I stole most from the actual ~episodes~ but the beginning and especially the end of this chapter are still (sadly) not in the real episode, so I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angry hate sex. It's completely consensual, but it's rough and probably not emotionally healthy, so...

"Highway run, into the miiiiidnight sun. Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind!" Gabriel cried, clutching his hands to his heart in a not at all overdramatic gesture, singing to Castiel across the front seat of the Continental.

"Restless hearts sleep alone tonight! Sending all my love, along the wiiiire!" Dean chimed in from the back, leaning forwards and resting his head on the back of Gabriel's seat to join in with the song, and until recently, Gabriel had never imagined that angels would know all the lyrics to Journey songs, but it seemed that this particular angel had spent far too much of his time paying attention to human culture and maybe not enough time answering prayers or whatever else he was supposed to be doing. Not that Gabriel could blame him for that.

"And they say that the road ain't no place to start a family!" Dean and Gabriel squealed in unison, their voices purposefully a little off key, and although Castiel had been trying his best to keep his eyes on the road up until now, the corner of his mouth did twitch a little.

"But right down the line it's been you and me!" Both Dean and Gabriel pointed at Castiel at this point, and Gabriel realized with a jolt of surprise that he didn't even mind the fact that Dean was singing that line too, even though Dean had met Castiel far later than he had.

"And loving an angel and a hunter ain't always what it's supposed to be..." Castiel smirked, turning to face the two of them, rushing to fit his own words in where they didn't quite fit the rhythm, and they all laughed.

"Oh, boy, you stand by me." The three of them all sang together as the car sped off into the night, and at some point, Dean ended up squished next to Gabriel in the front seat, half on his lap and half off, and none of them minded in the slightest despite the vague illegality of the whole thing, because it just gave Gabriel the best possible opportunity to press kisses to Dean's neck and give him head scratches.

"I'm forever yours... faithfully."

~~~~

Back in Stanford, Gabriel had had a secret weakness for romantic comedies. It had really only started when he met Alfie, and he supposed that made sense. Horror movies, thrillers, anything with too much action and danger reminded Gabriel of the worst parts of his own life. And then Alfie had showed up and suddenly there had been this whole new class of movies that managed to remind Gabriel of the best parts of his life, the best parts that he never even expected to have, and he'd just eaten them all up. He remembered watching Pretty in Pink and suddenly having all kinds of fantasies of taking Alfie to prom. He watched Notting Hill and wondered what it would be like if Alfie was famous, secretly loving the idea that Alfie would still choose him. He watched Bring It On and imagined Alfie in a cheerleader uniform... and, yeah, that one had actually ended up happening, but that was beside the point.

For the first time since then, Gabriel's life was starting to feel like a movie once more. The good kind of movie; one he'd be happy to watch.

This time it was a road trip movie. Very Thelma & Louise, potentially complete with the deaths at the end too, although he was trying his best not to think about that. He, Castiel and Dean were back together, and they were quite pointedly not discussing the apocalypse. By day they drove cross country, hitting up tourist spots and highway rest areas on their way to hunts, but always sticking to small, local problems, stuff that Michael and Lucifer surely wouldn't concern themselves with. By night, they stocked up on beer and sat outside, drinking, talking and watching the stars, until they were tired and slightly buzzed and could all three fall into bed together, fighting over who got to sleep in the middle that night.

As long as none of them thought about things too hard, they were happy. And Gabriel knew it couldn't last, but he refused to be the first one of them to break the bubble. He was, after all, very good at living in a bubble.

\--

"So, the Incredible Hulk's committed another murder," Dean said casually, glancing up from his laptop.

Dean said a lot of strange things, but Gabriel was getting far better at understanding them. This one was a mystery, though. "I'm sorry, what?"

"According to this website, reddit dot com, a man is claiming that his husband was killed by the Incredible Hulk. Lou Ferrigno, from the TV series. Man, I love that show. Apparently the cops won't take him seriously, they're saying this was a bear attack. I reckon this is something we should look into. Guys, we could meet the Incredible Hulk!"

Gabriel blinked, and then burst into guffaws, snorting and clutching his sides. "Dean, you know the Incredible Hulk's not real, right?"

"Well, yeah, but isn't that what humans say about vampires and werewolves and shit?"

Gabriel frowned. He supposed Dean did have a point. "So you're saying superheroes are real? What, do they have an alliance with the angels, do you guys keep their powers in check or something?"

"I don't know for sure that they're real, I'm just saying it's kinda close minded to assume that they're not! I don't know everything the angels get up to."

"Fair enough," Gabriel laughed. "It's kinda cool to think that maybe Captain America's checking up on us all. Alright, you got this guy's name? I'll look into him."

"Some dude called Bill Randolph. Forty-two, lives in Wellington, Ohio. That enough to go on?"

"Yeah, I got you." Gabriel yawned and stretched, putting down his copy of Vogue that he'd been flicking through and reaching out for his own laptop, typing in a few choice search terms.

"Alright, I got something," he piped up around fifteen minutes later. "Turns out Bill Randolph had kind of temper. Two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions." He chucked to himself as he added, "You might say you... wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Dean snorted into his mug of coffee, but Castiel didn't look so amused. He switched off the television where he'd been watching some kind of medical soap and sat down on the bed between the two of them.

"You're saying a hothead got killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Hey, desserts! We should stop off and get ice cream on the way to this place."

Castiel shook his head. He still wasn't smiling. "I looked up the incident you were talking about. Found the police report of the incident. Apparently they found candy wrappers all over the crime scene."

Dean frowned. "So the Incredible Hulk's got a sweet tooth. So what?

"Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill them..." Castiel sighed. "I hate to be the one to break this news, but I think we could be dealing with the Trickster."

"That's a stretch, you've got no evidence." But Gabriel's heart was beating faster, betraying him.

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Alright, Gabriel, I decided not to ask last time, but you can't keep this quiet any longer. You let him go last time we saw him, after he killed me a hundred times. What exactly is going on between you and him?"

Gabriel wished he had a simple answer to that himself. But he was angry, he didn't want to deal with this situation, he wanted to ignore this fucking case and drive out west. Maybe they could go to the beach. He'd always wanted to try surfing. He was scared, and he wasn't thinking straight, and he was definitely in no position to come up with a decent lie.

"You want honesty? Fine. You know I flirted with the guy when we met, before we knew he was the Trickster. I liked him. Well, after we killed him that first time, he showed up in my room that night. And I slept with him."

The room fell silent. There was no music on, no television, no background noise at all. The quiet was oddly constricting, and Gabriel watched Castiel's face as it tried to process what he had just said.

"...A bloody, violent monster, and you decided it would be a good idea to let him into your bed?"

Gabriel bit down the 'which monster are you talking about' retort and shook his head. "It wasn't like that. He'd killed people, but he had reasons. He was charming. He took me for ice cream..."

"Oh, he took you for ice cream! I understand now! Clearly that more than makes up for murdering your brother-"

"Cas, this all happened long before that, I'd never have done it if I'd known he was going to-"

"Either way, you still slept with someone who kills people for sport, and-"

"I've slept with you, you've killed tons of people, so-"

"Only when I have no choice! As usual, you're purposefully missing the-"

"You know what? You're jealous!"

That finally shut Castiel up.

"You're jealous because you'd wanted me for years and didn't have the fucking guts to do anything about it. And the Trickster shows up, takes me out on a date, and you wish that had been you!"

Cas shook his head in disbelief. "Your life isn't a soap opera, Gabriel, much as you wish it was!"

"Maybe we can compromise on this," Dean chimed in, holding up a hand to silence the both. "If this really is a Trickster, they're incredibly powerful. He might make a valuable ally, it'd be worth at least talking to him."

"What makes you think he'd want to ally with us?" Castiel scowled at Dean, who he definitely hadn't been expecting to take Gabriel's side on this.

"I'm just saying, from everything you guys have told me, the Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song... maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates the idea of the..." Dean closed his eyes and swallowed. None of them had said the A word out loud since they'd reunited, but they couldn't but it off any longer. "Of the apocalypse, as much as we do."

Castiel stood up. "Fine. I guess I'm outvoted. I never expected the two of you to team up against me, but... if you're set on this, then I suppose vacation's over. I'll get the car started. We're going to Wellington."

\--

Seven hours later, Dean pointed out of the window at a turn-off for a motel. "We're almost there. I say we crash for the night and then tomorrow, go check out the Randolphs' house. See if we can find any hint for where the Trickster might be."

Castiel agreed and took the turning, parking up. The three of them climbed out of the car, stretching their legs.

"The place is a little quiet. None of the lights are on," Cas frowned. "Are you sure they're open?"

"Might as well go and find out," Gabriel decided, setting off towards the doors.

The other two followed him, and Gabriel held the door for them. "Well, the door's open. Even if there is nobody here, if the rooms are still good I say we sleep here anyway. Hardly gonna be the most illegal thing we've ever done."

"Or the most morally questionable," Cas mumbled, giving Gabriel a pointed look, but he stepped through the doors anyway. Dean and Gabriel followed him.

As soon as they were inside, they were hit by blindingly bright lights - not the dim, flickering kind you'd find in the average motel lobby, but fluorescent strip lights that hurt Gabriel's eyes after the dark outside. Noise and bustle surrounded the three of them, and as they watched, several people in white coats rushed past, pushing a stretcher with a person lying on top of it.

Gabriel looked from Cas to Dean and back again. "I'm not imagining- we're in a- what are you two wearing?"

He was hallucinating, he had to be. Thirty seconds earlier, Cas had been wearing a leather jacket over a plain blue shirt, while Dean had been in his classic trench coat that covered up his suit and shirt that were a little the worse for wear after all the times Gabriel had ripped it off him. Now? Both of them were dressed in hospital scrubs and white coats.

Gabriel turned and pulled open the door they'd come in through - clearly, they had to get out of here. Behind the door were two women, both also wearing scrubs, their arms wrapped around each other as they kissed passionately on top of an industrial sized box of cleaning sponges.

Gabriel slammed the door shut again, his eyes wide and terrified. "Alright, guys, what the fuck is going on?"

"It appears the Trickster found us before we found him," Castiel replied. Gabe was relieved to hear that he sounded just as scared.

"Yeah, you gotta hand it to the guy. He does know what he's doing," Gabriel couldn't help but be impressed.

"Doctor." Gabriel was greeted with a slap around the face, and it didn't even come from Castiel or Dean in response to that last comment. Instead, it came from a tall man with a chestnut brown crew cut - he looked like the frat guy types that Gabriel had always watched walk past in college and pretended he wasn't into.

But right now Gabriel had more on his mind than the fact that the guy was attractive. Namely, the fact that his cheek really fucking stung. "What the fuck?"

"You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward."

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, coward I'll agree with. But, uh, what?"

The guy slapped him again. Thankfully, this time it was on the other side. The guy hit hard, and Gabriel wasn't entirely sure he could have taken another one on the same side.

"As if you don't know!" The guy shook his head in disgust and stormed off.

Gabriel rounded on the other two, pouting and scowling. "Did you see that? He slapped me! Twice!"

But Castiel wasn't paying attention. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, pointing over Gabriel's shoulder, his eyes lit up with an excitement that his usually calm face rarely showed.

"What?" Gabriel scowled.

"That's Dr. Piccolo!"

Dean looked just as confused as Gabriel felt. "Who?"

"Dr. Ellen Piccolo. The sexy yet earnest doctor at..." Castiel grabbed both of them by the hands and ran down the corridor until they reached the reception desk, and then he pointed at a sign over their heads. "Seattle Mercy Hospital!"

"Seattle?" Dean frowned, his face suspicious - almost like he knew something the two of them didn't. "Last I checked we were in Wellington, Ohio."

But Cas wasn't paying attention. Gabriel had never seen him like this - so excited, when they were supposed to be worried and figuring out how to get out of here. "Guys. We're in Dr Sexy, MD!"

So that was the crap show Cas kept putting on whenever they checked into a new motel room. Gabriel never paid much attention, too busy fighting with Dean for first shower (they usually compromised and shared) but he knew that Cas was into some guilty pleasure crap.

"So what are you saying? The Trickster trapped us in TV Land?" Gabe snorted.

"I don't kn-" Castiel cut himself off mid-word, his eyes bugging out of his head. "Oh boy."

"What?" Dean and Gabriel asked simultaneously.

Castiel bit his lip and shuffled his feet. "It's him, it's Dr. Sexy." His voice was soft and breathless, and his eyes seemed as though they had literal stars in them. Dean and Gabriel both stiffened and shot the doctor jealous looks.

The doctor reached the group and addressed Castiel directly, making eye contact. "Doctor."

Castiel glanced down at the floor and blushed. "D-doctor."

"You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?"

Castiel's face crumpled, and for a moment he looked like he was about to cry as he stared downwards and swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to respond. But then his expression hardened, and he met the man's eyes. "You're not Doctor Sexy."

He grabbed the man by the shoulder and shoved him into the nearest wall, drawing a few surprised looks from people around them.

Doctor Sexy tried to shrug Cas off. "You're crazy."

Cas didn't move. His eyes blazed and he looked completely unshaken. "Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."

Gabriel covered his hand with his mouth, giggling to himself, making a mental note to tease Cas about this later. Liking a TV show was one thing, but knowing what kind of shoes the guy wore... and Gabriel knew he would feel a lot less threatened by the guy when he was just a few pixels on a television screen once more.

"Call security," Doctor Sexy shouted.

"Go right ahead. We know who you are."

The doctor froze, and so did everybody around him, as though somebody had hit pause on the TV remote. Then, Doctor Sexy grew six inches, his hair lightened a few shades, his stubble disappeared, and suddenly the Trickster was standing there, letting himself get pressed up against the wall by Castiel.

"You guys are getting better!"

Castiel leaned forward, so that their faces were just inches apart, and growled, "Get us the hell out of here."

"Or what?"

"You set all this up, didn't you? This is a trick?" Cas confirmed.

The Trickster laughed and gestured to himself. "Hello? Trickster." He drew himself up to his full height and stared over Cas' shoulder, meeting Gabriel's eyes. "Come on! I heard Gabriel Novak was in town. How could I resist?"

Cas' eyes burned. "You stay away from my brother, you hear me? You might think you're all powerful, but we have an angel. And I won't hesitate to set him on you.

The Trickster laughed. "What, this angel?" He snapped his fingers, and Dean vanished.

Castiel recoiled in horror. "What did you-"

"I don't think I'm all powerful. I am all powerful. So you two better play along with this game."

Cas looked like he was about to argue back, so Gabriel stepped forwards. "How do we play?"

"Oh, you're already playing." The Trickster gestured around himself. "Do you like it? It's all homemade. My own sets, my own actors..."

"We didn't come here to play any game. We came to ask you for help," Cas growled, recovering from Dean's sudden disappearance.

"Help? You? I don't think so. Now, if your brother asks nicely, that might be another matter. And I think you know exactly what I mean by 'nicely'." The Trickster punctuated the statement with a wink.

"I'll go back to Hell myself before I let you near him. He’s mine now. And you’re going to stay away.” Gabriel had never heard Cas quite that angry in his life.

"Well, in that case..." The Trickster grinned, winked and disappeared in a burst of static, leaving Castiel pinning nothing but air to the wall.

Cas stumbled, but managed to right himself, and now that he didn’t have a Trickster to fight with, he took his anger out on Gabriel. "So, talking with monsters? Brilliant plan of Dean's. What the hell do you see in him?"

Gabriel sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t. There’s just something about him… obviously he’s dangerous, cause he’s a monster, and that’s kind of exciting, not knowing what’s gonna happen next. But in a weird way, he feels… safe, as well. Like he’s familiar. Felt like that even the first time we met. Do you get that?”

“I can’t say I do,” Cas pulled a face – though, he did remember having that exact same feeling once before, the first time he’d met Dean. He tried his best not to think about what this might mean for Gabriel’s future.

Before Gabriel could respond, a shout came from behind them.

“Hey. Doctor!”

Cas turned to see a man who looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, slouching and unwashed, walking towards him. “Yes?”

“My wife needs that face transplant.”

Cas was fucking done. The Trickster had slept with his brother, sent his angel to who knew where, and now ruined his favorite TV show for him, and he didn’t want to play the guy’s stupid game. “Your wife doesn’t need a face transplant. This isn’t real! None of this is real!”

The man pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and pointed it at Cas, firing once. Before Cas knew what was happening, he felt an intense, roaring pain in his stomach, and his vision went black as he collapsed to the floor.

For a moment, Gabriel was sure he was going to pass out too, even though he hadn’t been hurt. Not again, please. This was over, this had all been over two years ago, and he wasn’t prepared to watch his brother die again. He thought the Trickster had stopped, and this, this wasn’t even real, Cas couldn’t die on TV…

But, Gabriel reminded himself, people died on TV all the time. And if those people didn’t exist in the real world, that was it for them. Gabe had never seen Dr Sexy, MD, but it didn’t seem like the kind of show where nameless bit-part doctors routinely got resurrected.

So, what were his other options? He forced himself to concentrate. If he could save Cas’ life, they could stay here and figure out a way to get out of this stupid show. Not that Gabriel had any experience in lifesaving, but then again, it was a TV show. They didn’t exactly follow the same rules as the normal world.

Seeing an abandoned stretcher close by, Gabriel heaved his brother onto it and ran at top speed down the corridor, following the signs to the operating room.

\--

"Let's play Nutcracker!"

A chorus of cheers and applause exploded from a huge crowd in front of Gabriel. The operating table was gone. Instead, he was surrounded by bright, flashing lights emblazoned with Japanese words that he couldn't read, standing with his legs apart on some kind of podium, thousands of eyes on him.

He glanced around, and saw Cas standing on an identical podium, looking just as confused and frantic as Gabriel felt, but completely unharmed by any bullet.

A tiny Japanese man bounded to the front of the stage and pulled a stack of cards out of his jacket. The audience went silent, leaning forwards in their seats to hear what he was saying.

"Gabriel Novak."

Gabriel tensed, staring at him.

"What is the name of the demon you are working with, fucking and hiding from your brother?" he asked in Japanese. "Countdown!"

"What?" Gabriel frowned, not having understood a word he'd just heart. "Cas, help. What did he say? What do I say?"

"I have no idea. I'm sorry. If Dean were here-"

On the screen, the seconds began to tick down.

"Uh, I, I don't, I don't understand Japanese," Gabriel cried, desperate.

"What is the name of the demon you are working with, fucking and hiding from your brother?" the host repeated, still in Japanese, sounding more and more impatient.

Gabriel froze up. Operating on someone he could fake his way through, he’d taken biology, but Japanese? The Trickster wasn’t playing fair.

The countdown timer hit zero, and there was a loud buzz.

“The answer is… Crowley!” The host shook his head in mock apology. “I’m sorry, Gabriel Novak.”

“Sorry? For what?” Gabriel frowned.

The host pretended to hide his laughter, and Gabriel barely had a moment to be concerned before a heavy ball attached to a metal pole flew upwards and whacked him in the crotch. He doubled over in agony, clutching his dick, resolving that that was the last damn time the Trickster was getting to touch that.

The crowd cheered, and Gabriel scowled. Fucking assholes laughing at his pain.

A door behind them burst open, and Dean rushed in, dashing to the front of the stage and looking a little the worse for wear. His trench coat was torn and his tie askew, and he grabbed onto Cas’ podium and leaned against it, breathing heavily. “Cas. Gabe.”

“Dean!” Gabriel tried to move, to run forwards and hug him, but found his feet were strapped to the ground where he stood. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know. The Trickster sent me somewhere, but he’s focusing on you guys and whatever he’s doing with you here, so I managed to get out. No closer to figuring out what the hell is going on, though.”

The host snapped his fingers again, television static echoed around the room, and Dean flickered out of existence. “No, no, no, no. Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels.”

“So you’re the Trickster,” Cas muttered under his breath. “Figured you’d be the star again.”

Gabriel had actually been surprised that the Trickster wasn’t one of those girls in their underwear over at the side of the stage, but he supposed being the host made sense too.

“Castiel Novak. Would your brother’s ex boyfriend still be alive if you had never gone to find him at Stanford?” the host asked in Japanese. “Countdown!”

Once more, bright, flashing numbers ticked down on the screen.

Cas stared at them, eyes wide, knowing he was that many seconds away from getting hit agonizingly hard in the crotch. And as much as he didn’t want to play along with the Tricksters fucked up game, he also really didn’t feel like having his dick permanently bent out of shape.

He slammed his hand on the button. He wasn’t sure he could bullshit this, but what the hell did he have to lose by trying?

Concentrating on every time he could ever remember hearing Japanese, he opened his mouth, and made a few sounds that he hoped qualified.

“Yes?” the host repeated in Japanese, clarifying, and Cas nodded.

There was a pause, during which Cas and Gabe both crossed their fingers down by their sides, and then—

“Castiel Novak, Nutcracker champion!”

The crowd burst into applause, getting to their feet and blowing kisses towards Cas, and he even managed a tiny smile, bemused as he was as to how he’d possibly managed to do that.

\--

Gabriel stumbled out of a bedroom, wearing nothing but deep red silky boxers, his hair rumpled from sex or sleep or both. His eyes fell on a large frosted cake perched on a table that already had a few slices cut from it – enough to show the seven rainbow layers within, all separated by another layer of soft, buttery frosting. The cake towered over anything else on the table, and Gabriel said the first thing he could think of-

“I'm gonna need a bigger mouth.”

There was a burst of laughter, and Gabe looked up. Where the ugly-wallpapered fourth wall of the motel room should have been, instead, there was a drop, and then a studio full of people in chairs, obediently cackling at Gabriel’s antics.

Castiel came out of another door to thunderous applause, and flashed the audience a polite grin. “Hey there Gabe, what’s happening?”

It was easy enough for Gabe to act, to banter with him like nothing was really wrong. After all, he’d been doing it for years. “Oh, nothing. Um. Just the end of the world.”

The audience laughed again, and Cas waited for them to finish before pointing at the cake. “You're gonna need a bigger mouth.”

The laughter was getting annoying by this point. Cas was getting a headache. He gave Gabe a pointed look and asked, “Have you done your research yet?”

“Oh, yeah. All kinds of research. All night,” Gabriel smirked, waggling his eyebrows, leaning against the door. The crowd laughed harder than ever, and Cas scowled. It was almost like Gabriel was losing himself in his role. They were supposed to be getting out of here.

Gabriel’s door opened again, and the Trickster strolled out, wearing an oversized purple T-shirt with a wolf on the front and absolutely nothing else visible. He looped a possessive arm around Gabriel’s neck and leaned against him, making unashamed eye contact with Gabriel.

“Hey, Gabey? We have some more research to do.”

The crowd laughed yet again, and Castiel’s eyes burned. He had half a mind to turn around and yell at them to shut the fuck up, that there was nothing funny about this. But he couldn’t let the Trickster win. He had to keep playing his role, and then… and then…

The realization that there was no ‘and then’ coincided with the front door of the motel room bursting off its hinges and Dean dashing into the room, looking to be in even worse shape than he had been last time.

“I don’t have much time. I got out again, but it should be easier for me than this, I should be able to fight him off.”

“What do you mean?” Cas frowned, running over to give his angel a shoulder to lean on. “Dean, this is no time to focus on your ego-“

“Listen to me. Something isn’t right. This thing is way more powerful than it should be. I’m not sure it’s a Trickster. I reckon-“

Faster than light, the Trickster raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Dean fuzzed out and disappeared, a final few sparks drifting down to the floor and extinguishing themselves.

Gabriel threw the Trickster’s arm off from around his shoulders and rounded on him, folding his arms. “All right, you know what? I am done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it. Playing our roles, right? That’s your game? And we’ll do it, if you let us have Dean back.”

Castiel nodded, standing beside his brother in solidarity. “Yes. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

The Trickster only smirked. “Not so fast, hotshots. See, that's only half the game.”

“What's the other half?” Castiel gave the Trickster a scowl that would have made a lesser monster run screaming into Hell.

But the Trickster looked unconcerned. “Play your roles out there. Gabe starring as Lucifer! Cassie starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles.”

And that was the last thing either of them ever expected. Cas and Gabe stared at each other, wearing twin looks of confusion, until Cas pointed out the obvious. "We do that, the world will end."

"Yeah? And whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? You. You started it, and it can't be stopped. So let's get it over with."

Castiel rolled his eyes, turning away, completely done with the conversation. But Gabriel stood his ground, looking up and making eye contact with the Trickster. "Heaven or hell, which side are you on?"

The Trickster blinked, then recovered. "I'm not on either side."

"I don't believe you. I know you're somebody's bitch. I just want to know whose."

The Trickster's face changed, and he lost his composure for the first time that day. 

"You listen to me, you arrogant dick. I don't work for either of those sons of bitches. Now I'm going to give you a chance to think about what I've said. And when you're ready to say yes, you just let me know," he spat at Gabriel, and then the world went momentarily black.

\--

This was Hell. This was worse than whatever might happen if they said yes to Michael and Lucifer, not least because Castiel was almost certain that if he ever got out of here, he'd never be able to watch television again without crying. He didn't know how long they'd been trapped here. He knew that he'd been a crime scene investigator, a Victorian British woman in a long crinkly gown, a crew member on a spaceship, and a high school cheerleader singing show tunes - as well as watching his brother star in a commercial for herpes medication. And now... and now... now he was in an ordinary motel room. And he had no idea how to play this one.

"Gabe?"

There was no response.

"Gabriel Novak, I'm naked and covered in candy?" he attempted, figuring that if anything would bring Dean out of hiding, that would. But his bad joke went ignored, and the room stayed quiet.

There was no audience. No presenter. Nobody around and no clue as to what Cas should do.

As it so often did when he needed help, his hand gripped his own shoulder, right on top of the handprint Dean had left when he pulled him out of Hell. It was Cas' way of grounding himself, of staying focused when he had no idea how to deal with everything else around him. Because nothing was more powerful than that mark. Even if Cas died again, even if he became someone he couldn't even recognize, that mark would be there, permanently etched on his soul. It was the most powerful thing Castiel knew of.

The most powerful thing he knew of...

"Gabe!" he yelled, more urgently this time.

There was still no response, so Cas raced towards the door, flinging it open and running outside into the sunlight. His Continental was parked right outside, bright and shiny and clean, almost as though it had just been through a car wash. Well, at least the Trickster was taking good care of his baby, even if he was trying to screw with everything else that was important to Cas. He climbed into the car, not knowing where he was heading, but figuring that it would be easier to find Gabriel or the Trickster or _someone_ if he could drive.

"Cas?"

That was distinctly Gabriel's voice.

Cas looked to his right. Gabriel wasn't in the passenger seat. He wasn't in the back, either. Cas even got out and checked the trunk, but Gabe was nowhere to be found.

"Gabe? Where are you?"

"I don't know."

There was a red light on the dashboard that had never been there before. With every word Gabriel spoke, it flashed.

"Say something else."

"What the fuck do you want me to say?" Gabriel grumped. The light flashed again in time with his words, and Castiel's worst fears were confirmed.

"Gabriel, I don't mean to alarm you, but I think you are my car."

There was a pause, and then a loud guffaw, the light on the dashboard blindingly bright. "So what you're saying... what you're saying is..." Gabriel gasped between chuckles, "is that you're inside me right now?"

"Shut up," Castiel scolded, though the corners of his mouth twitched. "This is serious. I think I've figured out how to get us out of here."

"Oh? And how's that? Cause you'd better make sure I have opposable thumbs first. This car thing is gonna get old real fast."

"I'll make sure of it. Now, you remember what Dean said? He told us this guy was too powerful to be a Trickster. And he refused to talk about Michael and Lucifer, and taking sides, and we haven't seen him since. And he wants Dean out of the way. I remember some things that Dean told me once, and... I think I know what we're dealing with."

"Be a little more cryptic, why don't you," Gabriel grumbled, his voice turning into a squeak as they drove over a speed bump. "Ouch!"

"He said... that even though angels are real, people shouldn't believe in them, that people should kill them. And he said that most of them don't even have thoughts of their own." Gabriel didn't reply, so Cas continued. "Most of them. What if there are other angels that do have their own thoughts, just like Dean? Their own agendas? God's other wayward sons?"

\--

"You sure this is gonna work?"

"Not in the slightest, but it's worth a try."

Castiel climbed out of the car, perching on the hood, waving his arms at the sky. "Alright, you son of a bitch! We'll do it! We'll say yes!"

"Wow. Gabriel. Get a load of the rims on you," the Trickster said appreciatively, appearing uncomfortably close to Castiel, sat right next to him and running his hands over the shiny metalwork. Cas was half inclined to push him right off the car, but he wasn't sure that was the smartest move.

"Right." Cas took a deep breath. This was either going to work, or it would be the stupidest decision he and Gabriel had ever made. "Give Gabe his body back, and then we'll go quietly, or whatever you want from us."

The Trickster rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, and a moment later, Gabriel climbed out of the car, scowling and adjusting his many layers of plaid. He walked away from the car, and just as they'd hoped, the Trickster jumped down and followed him. 

Castiel waited, his heart beating faster and faster, one hand pressing down on the car as hard as he could - and the second Gabriel was out of range, he flicked his lighter on and tossed it down on the ground.

A ring of fire sprung up, the Trickster caught right in the middle, Gabriel safely on the other side.

"Or at least..." Castiel tried to sound calm, like he was confident in this plan and not terrified that it was going to horribly backfire. "We'll go quietly if you can jump out of that holy fire."

For a moment it felt like the world froze. Nothing moved except for the flickering of holy fire that Castiel and Gabriel could see out of the corner of their eyes. 

Then, the Trickster sighed, shaking his head in resignation. "Well played, boys. Well played. Should have known I couldn't outsmart the Novaks forever. Where did I screw up?"

"Dean's told us enough about angels. Once you made it clear you were scared of him being around, it wasn't hard to make the leap," Cas responded. He climbed off the car and stood by the edge of the fire, so that he and Gabriel were directly opposite each other, with the Trickster in the middle.

"And the first time I ever saw you lose control of your emotions was when you started talking about Armageddon," Gabriel added. "Call it personal experience, but family tends to do that to people. Makes you feel things you don't want to feel."

The Trickster spread his arms, admitting defeat.

"So which one are you?"

Castiel asked the question, but it was Gabriel who the Trickster turned to as he replied.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel. I promised you that I would find a way for us to talk. This was the only thing I could come up with. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but-"

" _Samuel_."

Gabriel spat the word, and it was the first time he'd called Sam by his full name since he was a kid. It seemed to shock Sam just as much as it shocked him, because just then, everything started to blur, black and white pixels appeared in front of both of their eyes until the whole world vanished just like Dean had done earlier, and the three of them were back in the motel parking lot that marked the last real place they'd been. Gabriel felt a small sense of pride that he had enough power over an archangel that he could snap him out of one of his carefully constructed alternate realities, but that pride was mostly overshadowed by anger, and fear.

"I trusted you. All my life, I trusted you. Cas. Bobby. Alfie. And you. Are the only people I've ever trusted. And now I find out..." Gabriel's throat was closing up, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't let Sam and Cas see him like this. 

"I know. And all I've ever done is try to help you. Try to prepare you for your destiny."

"This isn't my destiny!" Gabriel cried out, and he wanted to grab Sam, try to shake some sense into him, but there was still this impossible barrier between them. Just as there always had been.

"Yes. It is. Because this isn't about a war. It's about a family. Two brothers who loved each other, and betrayed each other. And that's why you two are the vessels." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cas growled, still coherent even through his anger. If he hadn't needed information, he'd have thrown holy oil onto Sam right now, burned him alive in punishment for hurting his brother. As it was, he'd wait, but his fingers were itching towards his lighter all the same.

"Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of his father's plan. You two were born to this. As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other."

"You've got it wrong. I'm not loyal to anyone except Gabriel and Dean," Castiel snarled.

But Sam ignored him, still talking to Gabriel alone. "Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always."

Gabriel was shaking with rage. "Never. I don't care what you and I had. I'll kill you before I kill Cas."

Sam snapped his fingers again, and Cas vanished, leaving behind nothing more than a soft wind that rustled the leaves on the nearby trees.

"You sure about that? Honestly, I've always thought Cas is pretty expendable."

"And I thought I couldn't hate you more than I already did." The lump in Gabriel's throat was painful, every word hurt to say, but he had to keep talking. Sam had to know just how much he'd hurt him.

"I know you didn't expect this, Gabriel. And I was going to tell you differently. Alone. Just as soon as I figured out how-"

"You could have started by not killing my brother-"

Sam ignored him, plowing on. "-But you always wanted to talk to me face to face. And now you can. I've never lied to you outright, and I never will. You can ask me anything, and I'll be honest with you."

Gabriel sucked in a few deep breaths, the cold night air stinging his throat, tears still threatening. Keeping his composure was almost everything he could focus on, but Sam was right - he did have questions.

"The night you disappeared. What happened then?" he managed to choke out.

"That was the night that set everything in motion. They were onto me, Gabriel, I couldn't risk being discovered. I hope you know that you getting out of hunting and going away to Stanford was never part of Heaven's grand plan. You were ripping up the script even back then. So Heaven decided that Alfie had to die. It wasn't a decision I had a part in, nor did I try to stop it. As soon as I found out the plan, as soon as I knew that was the night it was to happen - I ran. I couldn't risk being associated with you."

The words came easier this time, as Gabriel channeled his hurt and his rage into the questions he yelled at Sam. "And when you promised me? All those years ago, when you said that someday we'd meet in person? Did you know that it was going to be like this? You been planning to turn against me all along?"

"I swear to you, Gabriel, if there was any way I could have avoided this I would have done. At first, yes, I was simply preparing you to be the vessel, but before long, I realized that you were more to me than that. And I tried to change things. I did. But everything I tried... only brought you closer and closer to this."

Gabriel was going to reply, but then he looked down at the fire, and he realized that he wasn't scared of it. He wasn't scared of Sam either. He was in more pain than he'd ever been in his life - this was worse even than losing Alfie, this knowledge that someone he'd relied on since he was a kid was working against him. He was sad, but he wasn't scared. Because Sam may have been the archangel, but Gabriel was the one with the upper hand here.

Gabriel stepped into the ring of holy fire. He felt powerful, watching the flames lick around his ankles and have no effect on him while Sam just watched him, unable to move or to stop him. Gabriel prowled around the edge, and the flames blew in the breeze and warmed his ankles, but nothing more than that. He studied Sam, trying to decide what he wanted to do next. His heart was still clenched in pain, but he no longer felt like he was going to fall apart right there. He was in charge of the situation now.

He could feel Sam's eyes on him, wondering what he was going to do next. He wondered himself. He had holy oil and an angel blade of his own, he could easily hurt Sam, if he wanted. But that would make him no better than somebody like Crowley. Alternatively, he could keep Sam there, never let him out and force him to do whatever Gabe told him. That was a more attractive idea.

Alternatively...

Gabriel hated himself for even thinking it, but he'd spent so many years of his life wishing that Sam could be there with him in person for more reasons than just talking to him. And he had so many emotions to work off right now. This, this combination of anger and power, it was more intoxicating than demon blood, yet somehow he was more clear-headed along with it. 

He stepped completely inside the circle, startling Sam, and walked right up to him. Before Sam had a chance to speak, Gabriel grabbed his face in both hands and yanked him down, kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips, their teeth clacking together as Gabriel bit down on Sam's lower lip. Almost immediately, Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel, his fingernails digging into the soft parts of his back. They hurt, and Gabriel never wanted it to stop.

The two of them kissed long enough for the seconds to blur together and for both of them to completely forget where they were, before finally breaking apart, their foreheads pressed tight together.

"You gonna let me out of this fire so that I can at least slam you against a wall or something?" Sam growled against Gabriel's lips.

Gabriel had no intention of doing that, so he just looked down at the fire and then back at Sam. "You best be careful now, Sam. I wouldn't want this to be the last thing you ever did. Not that I'm not worth it, but I'm sure you've still got plenty more betrayals you need to get to before you die."

"Oh, you think I betray everyone? Maybe you're special, Gabriel."

"That's the most backhanded compliment I've ever been given in my life."

"And you know Crowley. He's good competition when it comes to backhanded compliments."

"Did you really eat his tailor?"

"You wanna talk about this now?"

Gabriel didn't respond to that, just grabbed at the sleeves of Sam's jacket, pulling it off and sending it falling to the ground. There was a satisfying sizzle as one corner of it got caught in the flames, which could apparently tell that it had been worn by an archangel. Gabriel wondered to himself how long he would have to spend kissing Sam before he would be able to get hurt by the flames too.

He didn't intend for this to take long enough for him to find out.

He fisted both hands into the neck of Sam's T-shirt and tugged, not giving a shit about ruining it, because he figured that if Sam could create the entirety of TV Land with nothing but a thought, it should be no trouble at all for him to snap up a new shirt. He got to work on his own clothes, taking a little more care with them than he had with Sam's, and true to his expectations, they lay on the floor as though completely unaffected by the fire. Sam may have been almost completely surrounding Gabriel with his huge size, but Gabriel knew that one well timed shove that took Sam completely off guard would have Sam stumbling into the holy fire and burning to a crisp. He had absolutely no intention of doing so, but there was a thrill associated with knowing he could. He'd never seen Sam as _vulnerable_ before.

When Gabriel was young, Sam had filled his dreams, and he'd imagined over and over again what Sam might look like. He'd pictured everything from an ordinary human to a strange, many-faced celestial being with six arching wings that towered over cities. And now Sam was here, and Gabriel didn't give a shit about looking. All he wanted was to feel. He wanted Sam to hurt him and to hurt Sam back so that they could prove to the other that they were both real, both here. He hated Sam so much and he loved him just as much and this was the only way he'd ever known how to show it. And now there was nobody around, no distance between them, nothing stopping them from doing what they'd always wanted. Not even Sam's betrayal was enough to prevent it.

Gabriel slid his hands down to Sam's ass and pulled the two of them tight together. Both of their cocks were already rock hard when they slammed together for the first time, and this was an angel, Gabriel's angel, the first person who had ever seen Gabriel like this, and now he could feel his cock. Fuck. Gabriel didn't have words to describe how good it felt, and luckily he didn't need them. He could just kiss Sam again and again and pour everything he felt into that as the two of them ground against each other.

Gabriel knew he could come just from doing that, but he wanted more, wanted to take away the last few layers of clothes between the two of them. He licked Sam's cheek and then tugged on his earlobe with his teeth, and then breathed into Sam's ear, "Want you on your knees for me, sucking me off, like you always told me you would."

Sam groaned and did as he was told immediately, running his hands down Gabriel's sides as he dropped to his knees, fiddling with the button on Gabe's pants right away. He shoved Gabriel's jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs, not wasting any more time on them than he absolutely had to. He gripped Gabriel's cock in one hand, squeezing gently, his tongue flicking out over the head. 

Gabriel exhaled, letting out a long, low, "Fuck..."

Sam glanced up and raised his eyebrows, smirking.

"Don't smirk at me, get to work." Gabriel tried to sound commanding, but it definitely came out as more of a moan.

Luckily, Sam didn't call him out on it. He just opened his mouth and swallowed Gabriel down, and holy shit, he hadn't been lying about angels having no gag reflex. It seemed like the easiest thing in the world for Sam to swallow around the head of Gabriel's cock and flick his tongue over the most sensitive areas on the underside, his hands scratching marks down Gabriel's legs, almost but not quite enough to break the skin.

Sam didn't even give Gabriel time to adjust to the sensation. Almost immediately, he started up a rhythm, bobbing back and forth on Gabriel's cock, one hand moving round to Gabriel's ass so that Sam could press one finger inside him. Gabriel, for his part, dropped his hands to Sam's hair - not to guide his movements, but just as something to hold onto to stop him from completely getting swept away in how good everything felt.

Sam curled his finger inside of Gabriel and hummed around his cock, his tongue dipping into the slit and lapping up the precome that was already dripping from it. Both of them groaned at the same time because of the move, so Sam wrapped his lips around just the head and sucked hard enough to milk even more precome from Gabriel's cock. Gabriel made a broken whimper as Sam got back into his rhythm, moving his head, if possible, even faster.

The circle of holy fire blurred in front of Gabriel's eyes. He could barely see, could barely hear his own moans and the slurping sounds coming from Sam, could barely taste anything even though he knew he was biting down on his own lip hard enough to bleed. All he could do was feel, the vibrations around his cock shooting through the rest of his body, everything so sensitive, and Gabriel could hold on, he _could_ , he was so much better than that stupid teenage boy who could barely keep his hands off his own dick and who would come in his pants if Sam spoke to him in the right tone of prayer. Yes, Sam was incredibly talented with his mouth, and yes, Gabriel had been waiting a very long time to feel it, but he was _fine_ , he'd had blow jobs before, as good as this or even better, and he was sure he could last for ages yet--

_Come for me, Gabriel, come for me just like you always used to, show me again how beautiful you can be when you fall apart because of me._

Sam combined his thoughts with a hard suck, hollowing out his cheeks around Gabriel's cock, and Gabriel was done for. He thrust his hips forwards into Sam's mouth and wailed as he came, shooting into Sam's mouth so fast and hard that it almost hurt, his legs almost giving out underneath him as all the tension in him faded away.

"That's fucking cheating!" he accused when he'd finally regained his breath, not offering Sam a hand as the archangel got to his feet.

"Cheating? I don't recall you setting any rules. You asked me to suck you and I did."

Gabriel scowled. "You... you were thinking at me. I forgot you could do that."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You seemed to enjoy it. Is your complaint that I was doing too good a job?"

Gabriel shut up, realizing that that was exactly his complaint.

Sam pressed up against Gabriel's leg, reminding Gabriel that he was still rock hard, and Gabriel saw an opportunity to take some revenge. "You know, I could just leave you here. All alone in the holy fire, without any company but your hand... how'd you like that?"

"You're not that mad at me."

"You sure about that?"

They made eye contact, and neither of them moved for a long, intensely charged moment. Gabriel had absolutely no intention of leaving Sam here, but he wanted to see for how long he could keep up the game.

Finally, Sam broke. "Your hand or mine, I don't care, I just need to come."

Gabriel's eyes widened and he blinked innocently. "Well, why didn't you say something?"

He unbuttoned Sam's pants and shoved a hand inside, fisting Sam's cock. It jumped and throbbed in his palm, responding to every touch of Gabriel's. Gabriel jerked him as fast as possible, refusing to slow down or to look Sam in the eye. He wasn't ready to forgive Sam and he didn't want to make this about feelings, but he did love the way Sam buried his face in Gabriel's shoulder and whined his name among various other praises, his hips making quick, sudden jerks into Gabriel's hand. Sam was so responsive, and Gabriel loved knowing he was making the archangel fall apart just the same way Sam had done to him so many times before.

"Fuck, Gabe, wanted your hand for so long," Sam panted, leaning all of his weight on Gabriel, trusting him completely not to just send him crashing down into the holy fire. And despite his size, Gabriel managed to hold up all of Sam's weight. The only sound he made was a harsh panting noise, the only things he could feel were the rough drag of Sam's jeans against his knuckles and the way their skin stuck together, slick with sweat, and Gabriel never wanted any of it to end.

But all too soon, Sam was gripping Gabriel's waist tighter, his voice cracking as he shoved his hips forwards a final few times and spilled all over Gabriel's hand, Gabriel's name coming out in a broken cry as Sam sagged against him.

The two of them stood there, waiting for the world to stop spinning around them, trying to calm their own breathing. As they came back into their right minds, they stepped apart, coughing and averting their eyes from each other.

"You okay?" Gabriel checked, because he wasn't enough of an asshole to leave Sam alone if he felt like shit.

Sam nodded.

Gabriel stepped out of the circle, putting the barrier back between them.

"Right. I'm gonna tell you what happens now. You're gonna bring Dean and Cas back. And then I'm gonna let you out of that holy fire, cause God help me I look at you and in my mind, you're nothing but the angel I love. But you're not gonna follow me, or do anything else to mess with me. You're gonna leave me to drive off into the sunset with Dean and Cas, and to pretend this isn't happening, for as long as I possibly can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is based on my second favorite spn episode of all time, so I'm excited for that!! Hopefully that will be up soon. :)


	9. hammer of the gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this fic joke's on you it will never die
> 
> (but someone will)
> 
> and yeah the I-69 is ACTUALLY the highway closest to Muncie, Indiana. I'm not making a sex joke, this is actual geography, but man I am SO happy it worked out like this. (although if this was intentional on the part of the spn writers in the original episode, then I swear to chuck...)
> 
> warnings for this chapter: mAJOR FUCKIN CHARACTER DEATH tho I can 100% promise he will come back ok

"Thought you were done? Thought you were 'getting clean', or something?"

Crowley's tone made it pretty clear what he really thought of this plan, and Gabriel wanted to protest, but he knew that anything he said would be a lie. He wanted to pretend that he was better than this stupid, fucked up thing he had going with Crowley, and he wanted to pretend he didn't need the blood, but he couldn't see any other way.

"I didn't think there was any point. The blood was to make me more powerful, to give me an edge when we were trying to stop the seals from breaking. But this is Lucifer. I thought he was too strong, I didn't think I'd be able to defeat him that way."

Crowley nodded in agreement. "You can't."

"Says who?"

"Says me. This is my blood and it's one of the most powerful substances in all of Hell - but I'm the King, and Lucifer? He's the founder. You could drain me dry and it wouldn't make a difference."

"Then I'll do it twice. You don't understand. I know that it's a long shot, I know I'll probably end up dying, but this is the end of the world. I have to try."

Crowley laughed the kind of condescending laugh that made Gabriel feel like he was six years old. "That's adorable. Being Lucifer's vessel given you a bit of an inflated opinion of yourself, has it? You think you might actually be able to change things. You can't! Nobody can! You want my advice? Go to the fucking beach. Eat ice cream. Catch some waves. Enjoy yourself for once in your sad life. Wait for Lucifer to find you and when he does, go quietly."

"You're not scared of all this happening?" Gabriel frowned. "You don't ever think that maybe, I dunno, if there's a huge war between Heaven and Hell, that's gonna affect you somehow?"

"Affect me? Of course. Billions of souls, all pouring down into Hell at once, collateral damage from the war between angels and demons? Business has already picked up since Lucifer rose. Just imagine what things will be like when you say yes."

But if Crowley was so desperate for him to say yes... "Does that mean you're not going to give me the blood?"

"Oh, I'll give you the blood. As much as you want. Because your plan? It doesn't have a fighting chance of working. So do your worst. Drink until you're sick. Turn yourself into a demon for all I care. You'll still end up as Lucifer's puppet."

Gabriel switched off his thoughts, because it was easier to drink if he wasn't thinking too hard while he was doing it. He had a theory that if he was showing too much emotion, too much humanity, then his body fought harder to reject the blood. But if he fought to push down all the parts of him that made him human, it became easier. He tried his best not to think about what, exactly, he was when he wasn't human. It was easier not to know.

It was easier just to drink.

It was much, much later, at a point when Gabriel was barely coherent from all the blood that was pulsing through his fragile body, that Crowley asked, "What really changed your mind?"

And being in a state where he could barely remember what he was trying to keep a secret, Gabriel replied.

"My brother's been to Hell once before. He never talks about it, and he won't say what happened to him in there. And I didn't know it even still affected him. But ever since I started sharing his bed again, I've felt him wake up, every night, shaking, and I've seen him look around and try his best to stay still because he doesn't want to wake us up and worry us. Think it'd just make things worse if I told him I was awake too, but there's only so much more of it I can take. I will do anything I can to stop Castiel from going back to Hell. I don't give two shits about Michael or Lucifer or whether they get what they want or not. But I will protect my brother. Whatever it takes."

~~~~

_For Sale. 1978 Lincoln Continental, Mark V. Gold._

_21,149 miles. Muncie, Indiana. Kansas license plates._

_Working radio; air conditioning; original seat covers intact._

_Two previous owners, both treated her well. Clean. Excellent condition._

_Asking $20,000._

"Do you really think we can get that much for it?" Castiel asked. He'd written out the advertisement looking for a quarter of the price, and Dean had immediately backspaced his final line, changing the number.

"You're Castiel Novak. I think you could get a hundred thousand if you tried."

"I really think you overestimate me."

Dean laid back on the bed, stretching his arms behind him and resting his head on his hands. "If the people reading this ad knew what this car had done..."

"Then they'd want to pay even less. Vintage car collectors don't care that a car was driven through a window into a parallel universe, or that the left front wheel chopped off the heads of three simultaneous vampires, or that a guy once used his mind control powers to convince me to let him test drive it. They just care about how good it looks and how smooth it runs. So we're going to have to do some serious work on it if we want to convince a buyer that any of this is true, especially that last line."

Castiel walked over to where Dean lay on the bed, and bent down to press a soft pair of lips to his forehead. "Come on. You're the angel here, I'm going to need your help with this."

It broke Cas' heart to even think about getting rid of the car. But it was too conspicuous. He was sure that Sam had used it to track him and Gabriel down, following them to the motel so that he could set up the entrance to his game. Whoever had sent him into the future had probably done the same. Zachariah, when he'd wiped their memories... and Michael and Lucifer almost certainly knew what the Novaks were driving too, it wasn't exactly a secret. 

So it had to go. Cas had grown up in this car - his earliest memories were of being curled up in the back seat with a baby Gabriel, the hazy images of his father and mother in front of him. He'd learned to drive this car when he was nine years old, had taken her to every state on the mainland, had lost his virginity in the backseat and had a sneaking suspicion that he might have even been conceived there. And he was about to voluntarily give all of that up.

To protect Gabriel, he reminded himself. Losing his baby would be worth it if it meant he got to keep his brother.

~~~~

"Cas. Cas! Pick up your fucking phone!"

Those were the first words Castiel heard upon being shaken awake by Dean. Gabriel's voice sounded slurred through the phone, and Castiel himself was still half asleep, hence why he hadn't woken up to the ringtone in the first place, but he could still clearly hear the urgency in the words. He scrabbled around for the phone and hit 'Call back," holding it to his ear and furiously trying to blink himself awake.

"Gabriel? I 'picked up my fucking phone'."

"Yes, good, now get your ass over here!"

"Over where? Where are you? You just up and left in the middle of the night, and you texted us three hours later saying that you were in a man's truck getting a lift to Indiana to visit a 'friend' who might possibly be able to help with the Lucifer business. What happened to the three of us being a team, Gabriel?"

"I'm sorry! I'll explain later! But there's something strange going on here. Like really strange. Like eyeballs in the tomato soup kind of strange."

"So there's eyeballs in the tomato soup and you want us to come to you? Wouldn't it make more sense for you to get out of there and come to us?"

"Tell him to check the freezer." That was Dean, cutting into the conversation.

Castiel frowned, but repeated the instruction. "Dean says to check the freezer."

Over the phone, Cas could hear the rustling sound of frost falling to the floor as a heavy freezer door was opened - followed by a sharp intake of breath from Gabriel. "Bodies. Lots of them."

Dean nodded knowingly. "Sounds like a case. Gabriel could be in trouble if he tries to leave. We should get down there."

"How did you-" Castiel began, but he'd long since given up trying to figure out the inner workings of his angel boyfriend's mind. "Never mind. Gabriel, we'll be there as soon as we can. What motel are you at?"

"It's called the Elysian Fields Hotel. Just off the I-69, near Muncie. You can't miss it, it's the only hotel around with, you know, a freezer full of dead bodies."

"Ask him how he knows it's the only one," Dean chipped in.

This time, Castiel did not repeat the instruction. "We'll be there as soon as we can, Gabriel. Sit tight. Maybe get out of the kitchen."

~~~~

"Good news. The other one's arrived."

"He's got the angel in tow."

"Kill him."

"Don't kill him! Lock him up somewhere. He could be useful for questioning."

"He's a seraph, he won't know Heaven's plans. He's not worth it."

"He may know the Novaks' plans."

"I still say kill him. I haven't had the fun of killing an angel in years--"

"I am the King. I have final say. Keep him locked up."

~~~~

The car ride was far easier than it should have been. It was rush hour on a Friday night, and Castiel expected to hit traffic the second they turned onto the highway, but although there were plenty of cars surrounding him, they didn't seem to slow down his progress at all. Dean wound down the windows and claimed to be 'airing his wings' when Castiel questioned it, and the two of them made up their own lyrics to Rolling Stones songs, Castiel trying just slightly too hard to get as into it as he possibly could, knowing that it was one of the last times he might get the chance to drive this car.

~~~~

"Gabriel? Where are you?"

"I'm in room 420!" Gabriel told them over the phone. "You guys gotta come up here. Much as I'm pretty freaked out about the whole bodies thing, this place is actually really nice. There were chocolates on the pillows. Chocolates! I already ate them all, but we could probably request more?"

"I missed your voice," Castiel cut in, not even caring how sappy he sounded. Even though it had only been a few days since he'd last spoken to Gabriel, it felt like so much longer. There was always something missing when he wasn't around.

"Shut up. Come upstairs and watch porn with me."

Dean's face lit up and he grabbed Cas' arm, tugging him towards the elevator. Cas rolled his eyes but followed, wrapping his arms around Dean once the doors were safely shut behind them and kissing him just because he could. 

He took Dean's hand as the two of them walked down the corridor. Gabriel hadn't been lying, the place _was_ nice, with red velvet carpets and gilded walls - definitely not the kind of place Gabriel would ever have picked for himself, so clearly his mysterious friend had picked it out. Cas tried his best not to be jealous of whoever this friend might be.

Cas knocked on the door, and Gabriel opened it, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe with the hotel logo stamped across the chest. His hair looked softer and fluffier than usual, though his eyes were red and tired and his face pale - and it might have been Cas' imagination, but Gabriel seemed to have lost weight.

"Hey, kids," Gabriel, the smallest and youngest of the three of them, grinned. Dean and Castiel pulled him into a hug that none of them moved away from for several minutes, their eyes closed as they held each other in the doorway of the room.

They finally broke apart, and Gabriel stiffened, his eyes going wide and scared.

"What's wr-- there's someone behind me, isn't there?" Dean asked it as a question, but he didn't need to. He could already tell. And almost before he'd finished getting the words out, there was a strong arm wrapped tight around his waist and crushing his ribcage, two other men advancing down the hallway to grab Cas and Gabriel.

Dean tried to struggle out of the hold, knowing he was physically stronger than any human and most monsters, and that he could easily save Cas and Gabe too. But for some reason he couldn't escape the man's grip. The guy didn't even break a sweat - this seemed to be more of a chore for him than anything else, like he was some kind of supernatural bouncer charged with dragging unwanted people around.

The men lugged the three of them down three flights of stairs, Cas' ankles bumping painfully against every step as they went. Then, they headed through a door with large, golden letters above it proclaiming 'Grand Ballroom', and were unceremoniously dumped in a heap on the floor.

"Dinner is served!"

\--

Gabriel scrambled to his feet, looking wildly around the room. A huge table was arranged, forming three sides of a square, an assortment of people gathered around, tucking into plates of what didn't look like any food Gabriel had ever eaten. He tried not to think too hard about it. The people didn't seem to have anything in common - Gabriel didn't recognize any of them, and they all looked, dressed, and acted different - from a tall, Egyptian-looking woman in a gown made of the finest silks who seemed to exude an aura of sparkling mist, sat poised with her back straight as she nibbled on her food, to a large man slumped over the table as he tore into his food with his hands, smearing it all over his mouth and grunting. It was by far the strangest dinner party Gabriel had ever attended - not that he had a massive amount of experience with dinner parties, but still.

An unassuming, dark haired man clinked his fork against his glass. "Ladies and Gentleman, our guests of honor have arrived."

"If we're the guests of honor why aren't we being treated a little better?" Gabriel snarked, but quietly enough that hopefully only Dean and Cas would be able to hear him.

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you for coming. Although in all my centuries, I never thought I'd see this. This many Gods under one roof..."

Gabriel blinked. Had he heard that right?

"...ow, before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules. No slaughtering each other. Curb your wrath. Oh, and uh, keep your hands off the local virgins. We're trying to keep a low profile here..."

"We are so fucking screwed," Gabriel mumbled, making eye contact with Castiel. Cas reached out and took Gabriel's hand, squeezing it tight, trying to comfort him the same way he would have done when Gabriel was a little kid.

"...Now we all know why we're here. The Judeo-Christian apocalypse looms over us. I know we've all had our little disagreements in the past. The time has come to put those aside and look toward the future. Because if we don't, we won't have one. Now we do have two very valuable bargaining chips. Michael, and Lucifer's vessels. The question is, what do we do now? Anybody have any bright ideas? Speak up. This is a safe room."

A large man who had been sitting quietly, unnoticed in the corner stood up, banging a fist on the table and roaring, "What do we do? We kill them!"

"Kill 'em? What, so the angels can bring 'em back again?" The man sitting next to him shook his head, shoving him back down into his seat.

"I don't know what everybody's getting so worked up about!" an old man with grey hair and a long beard cut in. "It's just a couple of angels having a slap fight! There's no Armageddon. Everybody knows, when the world comes to an end, the Great Serpent Jormungandr rises up, and I myself will be eaten by a big wolf!"

Gabriel nodded in agreement. He had never heard of such a serpent, but so many crazy things had happened in the past couple of years that he would never have believed before, that he pretty much refused to judge any possibility.

The three of them all started talking over each other, hurling insults, hurling other things too, yelling in a mixture of languages, clearly just trying to anger each other further and prove their point rather than seriously hurt each other. Gabriel learned for the first time that apparently even gods played the 'I'm older than you' card. 

The woman dressed in silks who Gabriel had been staring at earlier stood up. Her clothes floated on an invisible breeze, and every eye in the room drifted unwillingly towards her, the argument quieting.

"I know archangels," she stated, her voice clear and bright, ringing out around the room. "The only thing they understand is violence. This ends in blood. There is no other way. It's them, or us."

Even though she was talking about starting a full scale supernatural war, Gabriel felt oddly calm. He trusted her. She seemed peaceful, and perhaps more importantly, she seemed like she knew what she was talking about.

The man who had introduced the evening spoke up. "With all due respect, Inanna, we haven't even tried talking to them." 

There was a sharp intake of breath from several people in the room, and then the man started to cough, doubling over and coughing. Blood spattered on the table and he clutched his neck with his hands.

In the same clear, musical voice, the woman said, "Who asked you?"

Gabriel stared at her, his mouth dropping open. Had she just...

"Can't we all just get along?"

The doors to the grand ballroom opened, flying completely off their hinges as a man strode through, holding up a hand. Immediately, the guy behind the table stopped choking, leaning back in his own chair in relief. Gabriel turned to look at the tall silhouette, framed perfectly in the entryway, standing tall and proud with a wide stance and a hammer down at his side.

And his face was the absolute last face Gabriel had expected to see here.

He opened his mouth, trying to yell Sam's name, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure if Sam had done something to stop him or if he was just so surprised by it that he was incapable of making words.

Sam shook his head and tutted, looking disapprovingly at the ragtag group on the floor. "Gabriel... Castiel... Dean. It's always wrong place, wrong time with the three of you, isn't it?"

He addressed the room as a whole. "Good seeing all of you. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail. I get it. I'm not always easy to find."

"Thor? What are you doing here?"

It was the woman who had been speaking earlier. This time, her voice wavered a little, and she sounded uncertain. She's just come close to choking a god to death simply by thinking at him, but the second Sam showed up in the room, she'd lost her composure. Gabriel would have been curious if his mind wasn't still constantly repeating _Sam, Sam, Sam..._

"The same reason all of you are here. The apocalypse are coming, and it affects us all, even up in Asgard." He locked eyes with Gabriel. Gabe searched for something in his eyes, some softness, at the very least some recognition, but there was nothing there.

_Archangel Samuel, can you hear me?_

It was the only way Gabriel knew to get in touch with Sam. Right now he couldn't speak, but there was no chance of Sam cutting him off this way... was there?

Only, there seemed to be some kind of strange block in place. Gabriel didn't know how to explain it. He could formulate the thought just fine, but when he tried to send it to Sam, somehow it didn't go anywhere. It just kept bouncing around in his head, getting more and more frustrating, giving him a headache.

Sam continued to not acknowledge him. Gabriel could only assume he hadn't received the message at all. Sam just said, "You three. The adults need to have a little conversation. We don't need you cluttering the place up." 

He snapped his fingers, there was a crack of thunder, and Gabriel, Castiel and Dean found themselves in a heap on a massive bed inside Gabriel's hotel room.

~~~~

"I didn't know Sam was going to be here. I swear. He's not the friend I came here to visit, this is a coincidence-"

"Oh, so you've got more shady friends who are apparently secretly gods? That's excellent news, Gabriel. Makes me feel so much better about everything," Castiel shot back. "I thought after all that happened recently , we were going to stop lying to each other!"

Gabriel opened his mouth to defend himself against accusations that were in fact true, but Sam beat him to it.

"He's not lying to you, Castiel. I haven't seen or spoken to Gabriel since the three of you left me outside the motel. As for this place, he was lured here, you all were. The gods are scared. They want you on their side."

"Sam!"

He'd dropped the hammer on a side table next to the television and was standing at the foot of the bed, in a much more normal stance than his powerful figure in front of the gods, and he was gazing at Gabriel like he never, ever wanted to look away - the complete opposite of how he'd been acting downstairs. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and hold on and never let go. But he couldn't forgive him that easily. Sam had been lying to him his entire life. And it didn't matter that he'd been the only person Gabriel could confide in growing up, that when he'd slept with the Trickster he'd felt safe even though he really shouldn't have... Gabriel had chosen Cas and Dean. And he was not going back on that.

"Keep your voice down," Sam urged in a whisper. "I'm here to help you, but we can't let any of the others know."

"There is no 'we', Sam." Gabriel tried to keep the anger in his voice, but the truth was, he wasn't angry at Sam any more. He just missed him. Wanted things between them to be like they had been when he was younger.

But he had no way of knowing that Sam wasn't going to just turn on him again. He was impulsive, but he wasn't completely stupid.

"Right. Yeah, of course. So you don't want to be rescued, you'd rather be stuck here alone with a bunch of vengeful gods and no allies." Gabriel could taste the sarcasm in Sam's tone.

Gabriel gritted his teeth. "I told you to leave me the fuck alone."

"Look," Castiel recovered himself. He still wasn't sure what to believe, but the priority had to be getting out of there, then he could confront Gabriel and Sam about what the hell they were up to. "We can compromise on this."

"How the hell-"

Cas held up a hand to silence Gabriel and turned to Sam. It hurt him to make eye contact, remembering what Sam had done to them all in the past, but he did it. He refused to be scared of the guy.

"They called you Thor, right? Which means they don't really know who you are?"

Sam nodded, sinking down into the desk chair and spinning around to face the three of them. "It's essentially my own private witness protection. 

Cas raised an eyebrow, getting into a down and dirty staring contest with an archangel. "In that case, perhaps I should let something slip to somebody. From what I've gathered, they would not take the knowledge of your true identity well."

Sam snorted. "You know that I could take your voice away with nothing more than a snap of my fingers."

"I always carry a pen."

"I'll cut off your hands."

Gabriel cut in, folding his arms and smirking. "Well then, people are gonna be asking why those guys are running around with no hands."

A laugh like a musical chime came from the end of the bed. "There's no need for that. I already know."

Sam whipped around, hand grasping for the hammer that was too far away to reach. "Inanna! What are you-"

"Where you go, I go, Sam. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"Yeah, maybe once. But things aren't that simple these days."

Inanna smiled, her eyes wide and innocent, her face not betraying any part of her plan. "Oh, you mean because of your little pet human here? You know he's nothing, not compared to how much time you and I have had together. And yet... things have never been simple between us, have they?"

"You're blaming me for that?"

"Well, you are the archangel hiding out among gods." Inanna walked around the side of the bed and wrapped her arms around Sam, caressing him. Gabriel hadn't noticed until now, but she was almost as tall as he was. "And that means you have something I want."

Sam swallowed, his eyes flickering to Gabriel and back. "I've always had something you want. You can't lift it. You've tried."

"I'm not talking about the hammer. I'm talking about this."

Inanna slipped her hand underneath Sam's jacket, lingering on his abs for a little longer than was necessary, and then she pulled out his sword.

There was a flash, and a crackle, and suddenly the five of them were back in the main ballroom, all the other gods crowded around. Apparently Inanna had powers beyond anything Cas and Gabriel knew if she could teleport people without touching them.

She held up the sword to show the gathered crowd. "An archangel's blade. From the archangel, Samuel."

Sam looked around the room. He could see everyone else there slowly make the connection, all at once, and he was trapped in the middle of a room full of allies who had just realized he was the enemy.

"Alright. Yes, it's true. I'm an archangel. But here, at the end of the world, does that really make a difference? In the end, we're all just trying to survive. And I'm still right about Lucifer."

"He's lying. He's a spy."

Sam looked directly at Gabriel, and Gabe could almost see his heart break in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm not a spy. I'm a runaway. I'm trying to save you. I know my brother, Inanna. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can't beat him. I've skipped ahead, I've seen how this story ends..."

And then, the moment was gone Inanna spoke again, stealing Sam's attention away, the softness of her voice at odds with her harsh words.

"Your story. Not ours. Westerners, I swear. The sheer arrogance. You think you're the only ones on earth? You pillage and you butcher in your God's name. But you're not the only religion, and he's not the only God. And now you think you can just rip the planet apart? You're wrong. There are billions of us. An we were here first. If anyone gets to end this world, it's me."

Gabriel's eyes were so focused on Sam, so distracted from everyone else in the room, that he didn't have a chance to register what was going on until it was too late. One moment Sam's eyes were a burning, deep hazel, and he was on a level with Inanna, opening his mouth to retort. And the next, he was crumpling to the floor, eyes shut, a knife buried deep in his ribs, Inanna stood over him with her lips pursed.

 "I'm sorry, Sam."

There was silence from the gods around them for a few long moments, and then a voice dared to speak up. "This is crazy."

Inanna turned to face the speaker, tossing her hair over one shoulder, completely composed despite having just murdered an old friend. "They can die. We can kill Lucifer."

And in that moment, Castiel knew that his and Gabriel's streak of avoiding problems, of managing to worm their way out of things - it was over. There was only one thing left to do.

"Alright. Ladies, gentlemen and gods outside of the gender binary, we need to talk. Because usually, I would consider it my job to kill every last one of you. But today, there are some ever so slightly more important things happening in the world."

There was some muffled grumbling in Castiel's direction, and he regretted saying that to such a murderous, self absorbed crowd as this, but it was too late to backtrack now.

"Now, I may be human, but I am not stupid, and I know when I'm out of options. And I know that my only way to have even a chance of staying alive is to help you. And luckily, Gabriel and I, we have a direct line of contact with Lucifer and Michael. We can bring Lucifer here, and then all of you will be able to end things, once and for all."

Castiel turned to his left to get Gabriel's approval on the plan.

Then he turned to his right.

"Gabriel?"

Gabriel was gone.

~~~~

"Hey! Gabriel! Don't look at me! Act natural. Get in."

Gabriel turned to face the source of the voice. It was coming from the Continental, which wasn't parked where Cas and Gabe had left it, but had been conveniently moved so that Gabriel would have to walk past it on his way out of the hotel parking lot.

"Sam? I thought you were--"

"Dead?" Sam offered Gabriel a sad smile. "You've thought that before. Didn't blame you for it back when you didn't know who I was, but the next time I see you give up on me before you see wings on the floor... well, that wouldn't be the Gabriel Novak I love."

Gabriel gestured in the direction of the highway and mumbled, "I was gonna take a walk."

"You were going to take a walk near a busy road, staring at all the cars that went past, coming up with stories about where they were going and what they were planning on doing there. I know."

"How the hell do you remember that?" Gabriel shook his head, not expecting a response.

"Get in the car. I don't want you to get hurt out walking."

Gabriel would be lying if he said that in the past, he hadn't sometimes stared at the cars zooming along the highway and wondered what would happen if one of them suddenly lost control and spiraled off the road and on top of him. But that had been a different time; before he'd gone away to Stanford. He hadn't had those thoughts for a while now.

Still, he kind of figured that that wasn't the danger Sam was referring to.

He climbed into the passenger seat. "You know, usually it's my other favorite person who's driving this thing."

"You should make up your mind as to whether you love me or hate me. It's very confusing, especially to somebody who's so new to human emotions."

Gabriel thought that was a pretty difficult thing to make up his mind on, considering he himself had absolutely no idea what the answer was. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "I'm still angry at you. Cause it turned out you were just playing me and treating me like a dumbass all along, when I thought you were the one person who never did that. But I'm also a sentimental bastard, so... that answer your question?"

"I'm not sure."

Gabriel wasn't either, so he changed the topic. "They're calling Lucifer right now, you know."

Sam gripped the seat, his knuckles turning white, and it was the easiest thing in the world for Gabriel to reach over and place a hand on top of them, his thumb running over the knuckles and trying to soothe them.

"You could stay. Help us defeat him."

Gabriel wasn't exactly holding out much hope for that outcome. After all, he'd asked Sam to do the same thing before, and Sam's idea of repayment was to cast him as the lead in a genital herpes commercial. Dean still liked to bring that up occasionally when the three of them were in bed together - just a casual, "Hey, Gabriel, are you sure we're all safe? You don't have any genital herpes that you're at risk of passing on?" So yeah, Gabriel was still slightly bitter about the whole situation, and this time he was hoping for a simple 'no' from Sam rather than another trip to TV Land.

"I'm getting out of here. What the rest of them get up to is their business, but I'm leaving. You're welcome to come with me. Castiel and Dean as well, if they're interested. The four of us can be gone before Lucifer even arrives."

Gabriel listened to Sam's words, and it seemed like a great plan on the surface, but something was wrong. It took Gabriel a moment to place it, because he was so used to treating every word Sam said as true. But finally, it clicked into place.

"Oh, I see it now. I see right through you here. I know why you showed up to the gods party, knowing it was where I'd be, knowing you could make me talk. You still don't want to be involved in any of this apocalypse shit any more than you did last time we talked. But you don't want to be lonely. So you figured you could recruit your favorite pathetic loser to run away with you? Is that right?"

"I thought running away was what you wanted."

Gabriel thought back to his sixteen year old high school self, with no idea how to get away from his father. He thought back to his twenty-two year old post-Stanford self, still recovering from Alfie's death. He thought back to himself just a few months ago, when Sam had answered his prayers for the first time in years. He imagined Sam coming to speak to any one of his past selves, and thought of how he would have jumped at the chance to run away with him then. It would have made him feel so special, and he'd barely have taken the time to pack a bag before he was out the door arm-in-wing with Sam.

He was sure that if any of those past selves could have seen him now, they would have been horrified to hear him say-

"Yeah, it used to be. We used to have that in common, didn't we? But I've changed. I've got something to fight for now. So I'm going back in there. Are you coming, or are you leaving?"

Sam turned to look at him, and if Gabriel didn't know better, he'd have said that was respect in Sam's eyes.

"Alright. You win."

 ~~~~

"Checking in. Sorry if I'm a little... fashionably late."

"Lucifer, thanks for coming."

"Oh, you did right calling me." The words were said with relish, the kind of ominous sound that made everybody in the room realize at once that they had not, in fact, done right calling him, and had actually fucked up pretty terribly, but it was too late to do anything about it. 

Baldur still clearly hadn't quite realized what was going on here. He should have been running. He should have been getting everyone out of that room as fast as he possibly could, and yet he stood his ground, and-

" You think you and Michael own the planet? Think it's yours to do what you like with? What gives you the right? We were here first."

Lucifer laughed at that, and his stance changed. He looked like he was preparing to spring. "No one gives us the right, we take it!"

And with that he pounced. Baldur was the first to go, but nobody saw who was second, or third. They fought at first - Inanna conjured a fireball from nowhere and launched it towards Lucifer, and for a moment he burned white hot and it looked like the flames were going to entirely consume him. But then they vanished, and Lucifer was unharmed, except for the horrible scarring that had already been creeping up his face before this day. And then his fury was twice as great, almost as though he had consumed the fire too, and he attacked anyone he could get his hands on, with seemingly no thought for who they were, or their powers. It was a terrifying sight, watching gods from all over the world cower in fear and run from the ballroom, terrified for their lives, all because of one archangel who should never have been allowed this much power.

Sam didn't run. Sam stood his ground, and for some reason, Lucifer moved around him as though in a perfectly choreographed dance whereby Sam was allowed to be in the middle of the action yet unaffected by any of it.

"You alright?" Gabriel whispered to Castiel, and Sam turned around to look at the group of them standing there, as though he was still so used to tuning into every single one of Gabriel's whispered thoughts that he just couldn't help himself.

"No, but I have something for you." Sam dug into his pocket and pulled out a DVD copy of 'How To Raise The Perfect Dog,' handing it to Gabriel. "Guard this with your life. It's the most important thing I will ever give you."

"What - wait - Sam, what? What is this?"

But Sam didn't have a chance to answer. At that moment, the last god fell, Inanna letting out a scream of terror as Lucifer released her own fireball from his chest, throwing it back to engulf her in the flames and send her weak-kneed to the floor, the crackle of the flames getting louder and louder until it extinguished her cries.

And then Lucifer stepped forwards, finally acknowledging Sam.

"Well, well, well. Samuel. It really has been far too long."

"It's not that easy to kill a god, Lucifer. Many of them will be back. Inanna for one is permanent, even more so than the universe. She can't really die. And plenty of the others are powered by belief. You might as well have tried to kill Santa Clause."

Lucifer looked completely unaffected by Sam's words. "But I think I made my point. I will stop at nothing to win this war. There's no limit to the amount of destruction I'm willing to cause."

"I think you made that point several millennia ago. It's getting a little tired now."

Gabriel itched to run forwards and stand by Sam's side, but Castiel and Dean were holding tight to each of his hands, keeping him in place, so all he could do was watch."

"Lucifer, you're my brother. And I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks."

Gabriel only just managed to keep himself from cheering out loud.

Lucifer snarled. "Wait, what did you just say to me?"

"Look at yourself! Dad kicked you out, so you're going to destroy everything he made? Don't you think it's time to move on from all of that, to grow up? I know it's not easy, and I know it takes a long time..."

"Don't you condescend me, Samuel."

Sam was trying his best to keep his cool, but confronting his brother for the first time in centuries had him right on the edge. "I know you're trying to play the victim here, but we both know the truth. Dad loved you best. More than Michael, more than me. Then he brought the new baby home and you couldn't handle it. So this is all just one big temper tantrum. And it's not worth sacrificing the world for."

"Samuel, if you're doing this because of Michael..."

And Sam snapped.

"Screw Michael! I'm not doing this for him! I'm doing it for-" He cut himself off just in time, but his eyes flickered over to Gabriel for a split second.

"I can't believe your disloyalty. Thousands of years ago I was cast out, and I've never stopped being loyal to our father! You, though... you ran away the first chance you could get. You joined the Pagans! And you dare try to act like you know better than me?"

Lucifer clenched his fists, pacing the room, and then fixed his attention on Dean.

"And you. Dean. Back when I knew you in Heaven, you were one of my father's best soldiers! I had such high hopes for you back then, I could see you working directly under the archangels someday! And look how you threw all that back in our faces. From the second you laid a hand on Castiel in Hell, you were lost!"

"Lost isn't the word I'd use," Dean growled, though he was still too busy restraining Gabriel to do much else.

Lucifer addressed Sam again, already bored with the other angel he saw as so insignificant in comparison to himself. "So you're both willing to die, for a pile of cockroaches. Why? They are broken. Flawed! Abortions."

"Damn right they're flawed. But a lot of them try. To do better, to forgive. And I tried not to get involved, I tried, but somebody changed my mind. And I'm not on your side, or Michael's. I'm on theirs."

At that moment, Gabriel broke free of Castiel and Dean's hands, striding forwards and taking his place by Sam's side. He was tiny in comparison to the huge archangel and from Lucifer's perspective he must have been tinier still, but he held his shoulders back and his face in the air, trying to give off as much confidence as possible. He took Sam's hand and brought it up to his own lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles and holding eye contact with Lucifer the whole time he was doing it.

"Bet you didn't see this one coming, Lucifer."

Lucifer laughed in surprise, looking from Gabriel to Sam and then back again. "As if all your other betrayals weren't enough, Samuel. On top of everything else, you just had to take my own vessel away from me too."

"I think you'll find he came perfectly willingly. Did you see me ask him to stand here with me?"

"It makes no difference, anyway. Once you're dead, he'll have no choice but to choose me."

Gabriel shook where he stood, not in fear but in anger. He should have been terrified, but he couldn't remember feeling any less scared in his life. Something about knowing where he stood with Sam, knowing that Sam believed in him and had chosen him - that was enough to stop the fear from taking over.

"I'll never choose you. You could make me watch him die a thousand times over. You could make me kill him myself a thousand times over. And I would still never choose you."

Lucifer ignored Gabriel and addressed Sam. "Give him to me now and you live. Please. Brother. Don't make me do this."

"No one makes us do anything," Sam scowled, gripping Gabriel's hand tighter, and Gabriel saw the bright white of Grace flash in Sam's eyes.

"I know you think you're doing the right thing, Samuel. But I know where your heart truly lies."

And then a figure snuck up behind Lucifer; not one of the fallen gods, but another Sam, some kind of trick that he'd pulled- no, the Sam standing next to Gabriel was the trick, and this was the real Sam, raising the angel blade high behind Lucifer. Gabriel had done similar tricks with Cas enough times that he didn't visibly react to what he saw, and yet, he felt a shiver of cold run up through his arm where his and Sam's hands were joined, knowing that it wasn't the real Sam.

Sam lunged, and Lucifer reached up, not even blinking, grabbing Sam's sword in his own hand, twisting it around and plunging the blade right into Sam's heart.

He held it there, the five - six? - of them all frozen, and growled, " Here. Amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother." 

He jerked the blade out of Sam's chest, and there was a flash of light that blinded everyone in the room momentarily, and during the second of blindness, Gabriel felt the hand clasping his fade away to nothing. When the room came back into focus, Lucifer had vanished and Castiel and Dean were crowded around a body on the floor. Gabriel tried to move towards it too, and he heard himself laugh as though from a long distance away, heard someone who was maybe him and maybe somebody else say-

"Guys, it's fine, don't worry about him. How many times have we seen him die? He'll be back."

He couldn't even tell if he believed it or not. And then Castiel and Dean stood up at the same time, neither of them speaking, just each stepping off to the side, giving Gabriel the best possible view of six huge archangel wings imprinted forever in charcoal on the ballroom floor.

Gabriel didn't remember screaming, but the others told him later that his first scream was incoherent, when he was still rooted to the spot, and that his second scream was, "Samshine, no!" as he launched himself across the room and down onto Sam's chest, gathering up handfuls of red plaid into his hands and burying his face into it, sobbing. He could never remember where the nickname came from, and he'd never used it before, and yet it seemed to fit him perfectly.

 ~~~~

"Gabriel. We have to leave."

"I won't, I won't leave him! Not ever."

Castiel crouched down, rubbing Gabriel's back gently. "That's not an option. Look, I know what Sam meant to you. I do. And I do know how long you've been praying to him, even though you always tried to hide it. But he did this for you. You've got a world to save."

And Castiel knew more than just the fact that Gabriel had been praying. He'd overheard some of them, he knew what Gabriel worried about, and he knew just what to say to convince him. 

"Come on. Let's go make an archangel proud."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bye felicia

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I wrote this months ago and I still feel guilty about it.


End file.
